<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Never Cruel or Cowardly by Bow_Ties</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28756755">Never Cruel or Cowardly</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bow_Ties/pseuds/Bow_Ties'>Bow_Ties</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Basically just an excuse to give Yaz a sword, F/F, Fantasy AU, I mean it, Knight!Yaz, Royal!13, Slow Burn, and longing glances, lots of yearning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:27:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>55,145</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28756755</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bow_Ties/pseuds/Bow_Ties</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>City Guard Yasmin Khan has been chosen to become a member of the illustrious Royal Guard, a troupe of elite soldiers trained to protect the Palace and Royal Family of Gallifrey. More than that, she is to be raised straight to the ranks of those who guard the heir to the throne herself – a decision that raises eyebrows around the palace.</p><p>What none of them know is that Dame Yasmin has met the Crown Princess before, and it is a secret she has promised to keep close to her heart.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>201</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello everyone!</p><p>So I couldn't resist the thought of Yaz with a Sword (which is also what this fic is called in my google drive), and here we are. The plan is for this to be very slow burn, but we'll see where the adventure takes us!</p><p>There is no fixed update schedule for this, but I'll do my very best to not make the wait between chapters too long! :)</p><p>I hope you enjoy this story and as always, nothing makes me happier than reading your comments :)</p><p>Now put on your armour and sharpen your swords, off we go!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Mother, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t, Yasmin. Today, I am allowed to fuss as much as I like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh, Yasmin sunk into the chair, her mother eagerly lifting a brush behind her. If there was anything she hated, it was someone touching her hair, but today, she had to relent. Besides it being arguably the most important day in her life so far, it was also the last time she would get to see her parents in a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop moving around so much”, her mother chided, and Yasmin tried to force herself to sit still. She was usually quite composed, but today she found herself wringing her hands and shifting back and forth in her chair, seemingly unable to control her own movements. Her eyes kept darting to the other side of the room, where, on the old, wooden kitchen table, her new armor was laid out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Each piece was shining bright, even in the dusty air of the kitchen - Yasmin had spent the previous night polishing them until everything was to her satisfaction. The most elegant materials she had ever seen formed the Upper and Lower Cannon - the arm guards - as well as the Greave and Cuisse - the leg guards. The gauntlets she was to wear had golden inlays, something her sister had spent the last three days marvelling at every chance she got. Yasmin’s favorite piece however, was the Cuirasse: an elegant breastplate adorned by the royal house’s motto in golden inlays. It was written in the language of the nobles of the land, which Yasmin had received basic instruction in over the last couple of weeks. She still had trouble keeping up with all the swirling circles, so different from the letters of Common she had learned as a child, but she knew enough to read the words on her breastplate:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Never cruel or cowardly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Over it, she would wear a Gorget, a protective collar that she wasn’t too fond of. She hadn’t had one of those on her old armour and was already worried about the restrictiveness of it. Her shoulders would be adorned by quite simple spaulders, but those would not be seen most of the time, covered as they would be: next to the kitchen table, her mother had hung her cloak, of the deepest blue Yasmin had ever seen. The day it had been delivered, Yasmin had gasped as her fingers had grazed over it for the very first time. The softness of the cloth alone spoke of a value that Yasmin could only dream of, but the dark blue dye made the riches of the people who had commissioned it even more evident. No commoner could afford to wear blue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Done”, her mother finally spoke, and Yasmin jumped out of the chair, her dark brown hair now neatly tucked into a bun. As she turned around, she noticed the slight look of sadness, hidden behind her mother’s enthusiasm, and guilt settled in her stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she could say anything, however, her father entered the kitchen, and Yasmin’s mother frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shouldn’t you be minding the shop?” she asked, but he waved her off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sonya is taking care of that for a little bit. I wanted to spend some time with our girl before they come and pick her up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasmin groaned. “I’m not a girl anymore”, she mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, right”, he replied, scratching the back of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three of them stood awkwardly for a moment, none of them sure what to do now. Yasmin’s parents had reacted with so much joy when she had told them of her new appointment; her father had jumped up from the dinner table, picking Yasmin up and twirling her around like he had done when she had been a little girl, and her mother had cried tears of joy. But in that moment of surprise, all of them had almost forgotten what it would ultimately mean: that Yasmin would move away, potentially for good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, the look in her parents’ eyes was a mix of the joy and pride of that first day, as well as the sadness that had settled between them in the following weeks. Yasmin didn’t know how to handle it all, she had never been good with these kinds of situations. She remembered her first day as a city guard, then, and finally, she had an idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you”, she began, walking towards the table with her armour laid out on it. She stopped, turning around to look at her parents once more. “Would you help me put on my armour?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When both her parents’ faces lit up, she knew she had done the right thing. They hurried over immediately, looking over the shining pieces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right”, her father said. “What first?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasmin’s old armour had been much simpler, and at the end, she was glad that they were three heads figuring it all out together. Once her mother had fixed the clasps of the cloak over her shoulders, her father went to get her sword from her room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he returned, however, he wasn’t holding the sword Yasmin had been using during her time at the city guard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This sword was in a sheathed in fine leather, and the hilt was of elegant craftsmanship, the pommel adorned by the relief of a lion’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Father”, she breathed as he handed it to her. “What…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled, his eyes watery, as he looked over to her mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are very proud of you, Yasmin”, he finally said. “And this is to show you that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At a loss for words, Yasmin took the sword in her hands, and carefully unsheathed it. It was perfectly weighted in her hand, and gleamed in the light, an inscription on the blade becoming visible. As Yasmin read the words, she felt the tears begin to sting in her own eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I carry them with me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She carefully sheathed the weapon, and then, without a pause, pulled both of her parents into a hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you”, she said, trying not to let the tears fall down her cheeks. One escaped, however, but Yasmin decided that the occasion warranted it. When she finally pulled back, a knock on the door rang through their small home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Royal Guard!” a voice sounded from outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her parents took a step back, nodding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell Sonya that she’s a pain in the ass”, Yasmin said, giving a lopsided smile. Her mother threw her a chiding look, but her father smiled knowingly. Yasmin had said her goodbyes to her little sister the night before. She had sat at her bed, waiting for the younger woman to admit that she wasn’t asleep yet. When she finally did, she had simply sat up and pulled Yasmin into a hug. No words had been needed in that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She fixed her new sword to her belt, and took a deep breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will write”, she said, and her parents nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As will we”, her mother replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I will send you a part of my wages”, Yasmin added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, her mother frowned, but before she could protest, Yasmin continued:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will. You deserve it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flexing her hands in her gauntlets, the weight of them still unfamiliar, she walked towards the door. She liked the feeling of a cloak moving behind her - she had been worried about the pompousness of it all initially, but now she had to admit that it made her feel quite confident in fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hand on the door, she turned around one final time, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you”, she said, and then she walked out the door.<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
The Guard who had picked her up was not much older than Yasmin, to her surprise. He was a bit taller than her, with darker skin and kind brown eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ryan”, he introduced himself as soon as they had sat down in the carriage that had been waiting outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasmin nodded politely in return. “Yasmin, my Lord”, she replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, Ryan let out a chuckle, and Yasmin felt embarrassment and a bit of anger towards herself. It had taken her mere minutes to misstep. That was a new record.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry”, Ryan finally said as he noticed her discomfort. “It’s just, members of the Royal Guard don’t address each other with honourifics. Besides, like everyone else, I gave up my titles when I became a Guard, so if anything, it would be Sir. But simply Ryan is more than enough. You’re a part of this now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with those words, he smiled such a kind smile that Yasmin felt her embarrassment slowly seep away. Right. She was a part of this now. “Well then”, she said, “It’s Yaz.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you, Yaz.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She realised for the first time, then, that people outside of the Guard would no longer be allowed to simply address her by her first name. After her initiation ceremony at the end of the month, she would be Dame Yasmin of the Royal Guard to everyone but her own family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh”, Ryan suddenly said, and Yasmin was pulled out of her thoughts. “I forgot to say, the Lord Protector is the obvious exception. No first names, there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasmin nodded. The Lord Protector was the head of the Royal Guard, and Yasmin had heard many stories about him. An imposing knight, he had saved the King’s life not once, but twice, or so word on the streets had it. The first time, he had apparently been nothing more than an initiate, what Yasmin was to be for the weeks ahead. The stories told of the knight taking the bolt of a crossbow to his arm that had been meant for the King. His arm had been gravely injured, and people said that the King had gifted him a golden armguard to express his gratitude, and to show everybody else the bravery of this knight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they drove onto the palace grounds, Yasmin felt her palms begin to sweat, and her throat went dry. Ryan must have noticed her sudden nervousness, because he leaned over, putting a friendly hand on her arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey there”, he spoke softly. “You’ll be alright. Princess duty, right? She’s quite alright, from what I can tell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, Yasmin’s ears perked up. “You guard the Princess?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, puffing out his chest. “Got selected a couple of weeks ago. I used to just be on general palace duty. Speaking of which, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> you get yourself straight to the Princess Guard? Usually you have to do a couple of years of general palace duty first. I mean, I did, too, even though -” He suddenly stopped there, as if he had realised he was about to say something he wasn’t supposed to. Yasmin caught up on it, and lifted an eyebrow at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway”, he said, clearing his throat as he avoided her gaze. “Here we are!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasmin hadn’t even noticed the carriage coming to a halt, and now that she looked out, her breath caught in her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The palace was even more gorgeous up close than it was viewed from the city. A large tower stood, gleaming golden in the sun, surrounded by many more smaller towers, some of the ones farther away curiously bending towards the centre. It was imposing, terrifying and beautiful all at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somebody opened the carriage door, and Yasmin stepped outside, the light that reflected off the towers briefly blinding her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll get used to that”, Ryan said next to her, and she dropped the hand she had protectively put over her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This way”, he continued, and she followed him into one of the side towers. They ran into some of the palace staff on the way, who stopped what they were doing to stand against the walls, making space for them as they gave a brief bow. It made Yasmin’s cheeks burn to suddenly have this kind of respect shown towards her. As a city guard, especially as a female one, she more often than not had had to deal with people disrespecting her position. The sudden change was both welcome and slightly awkward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She followed Ryan up a couple of flights of stairs, until he stopped at the beginning of what seemed to be a longer corridor, bending around the corner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is where we sleep”, he said as he began walking past the doors. He pointed at one of them in passing, and smiled. “That’s me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few doors further down the hall, he stopped, and reached out to open the door in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that’s you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasmin glanced past him into the chamber. It was simple, but it had everything one would need. A bed, a table and chair, and a second, smaller table, holding a bowl of water and a towel. There even was a bust to hang her armor on when she wasn’t wearing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be in my room”, Ryan said. “I have the rest of the afternoon off. The Lord Protector will come and see you in an hour or so I have been told, and escort you to your first training unit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright”, Yasmin replied, feeling the nervousness flare up in her chest once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come knock on my door if there’s anything you need”, Ryan said. “Although”, he added, a sheepish look on his face. “I might be asleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He left her alone then, closing the door behind him, and Yasmin stood in her new room, unsure of what to do next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One hour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An image flashed through her mind, of blonde hair and green and brown eyes, sparkling in the morning sun.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thank you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Yasmin sat on her bed, her gauntlets lying next to her and her hands clasped tightly together, her heart was racing in her chest at the mere thought of hearing that soft voice once again.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading :) Kudos and comments are as always greatly appreciated &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's the second chapter! I hope you enjoy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yaz wasn’t sure how much time had passed before finally somebody knocked on her door. She quickly jumped up from the bed - she had been sitting there the entire time, lost in thoughts - and grabbed her gauntlets. As she opened the door, she was greeted with the sight of a dark skinned woman wearing the uniform of the Royal Guard. She was older than Yaz, and looked like she had seen battle. Even though there was a significant age gap, Yaz was relieved to find out that she wouldn’t be the only woman around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz was about to smile and ask for her name, reminding herself of Ryan’s words about members of the Guard acting familiar with each other. Just as she opened her mouth, however, something shimmered in the corner of her eyes and her gaze fell upon the woman’s arm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There, polished to shine, was the woman’s upper arm guard, made out of gold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I -” Yaz began. “Lord Protector!” she finally exclaimed, her mouth catching up with her brain as she adjusted her stance and briefly bowed her head towards the older woman. At the same time, her thoughts were racing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All the stories about the Lord Protector talked about a </span>
  <em>
    <span>male </span>
  </em>
  <span>soldier. The title was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lord</span>
  </em>
  <span> Protector for crying out loud! How had nobody told her -</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guardswoman Yasmin”, the Lord Protector spoke, and Yaz slowly lifted her head. She was surprised to find a broad smile on the woman’s face, and a moment later, a small laugh even tumbled over her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nobody told you, sweetheart, did they?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz blinked. “N..No”, she managed to breathe out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah”, she said, holding out her hand towards Yaz. “I am Dame Commander Grace of the Royal Guard, Lord Protector of His Majesty the King and the Royal Family. Don’t hold it against your future siblings in arms that they didn't tell you. It is… sort of a ritual to let new members run straight into this one. Also”, she added as she shook Yaz’s hand, her grip firm, “it gives me a chance to get a first impression that isn’t based on my rank. Would you believe it if I told you that someone once asked me to bring him a pitcher of water? Rather impatiently so, in fact.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A quiet snort escaped Yaz before she could stop it, and Grace smiled. The older woman took a step back then, beckoning Yaz to follow her. As they walked down the corridor, Grace threw a look over her shoulder, her gaze coming to rest on Yaz's hands. It was then that Yaz realised she was still simply holding her gauntlets, and she slipped them over her hands quickly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You may take them off when you are off duty", Grace spoke, a slight disapproval in her voice. "But never in the presence of the Royal Family."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz felt her cheeks grow warm as she let her gaze drop to the floor. She silently promised herself to be more attentive in the future, to do better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You wore simple demi-gauntlets in the city guard, didn't you?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz looked up, surprised to hear softness in Grace's voice once again. She nodded, flexing her hands in the heavy metal. The simple plate over the back of her hand that was standard for the City guards had allowed a lot more flexibility, not to say comfort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You'll get used to it", Grace said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will”, Yaz replied, nodding firmly. Together, they walked down the same staircase that Ryan had escorted her up just over an hour ago, except they took a different turn when they reached the first floor. Instead of descending back into the courtyard, Yaz followed the Lord Protector down a corridor. There was a noise in the distance, and the further they went, the louder it became. Clanging, shouting, the unmistakable sounds of battle. Finally, they stopped, stepping into a room filled with weapons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Curiosity immediately flaring up at what kind of armoury the Royal Guard might possess, Yaz let her gaze flicker over the racks of shining metals. Swords, with golden pommels and blue handles - the standard issue of the Royal Guard - lined the walls, and over them hung an array of crossbows, shortbows and longbows, quivers filled with arrows and bolts respectively neatly stacked in shelves on the opposite wall. Finally, one wall had nothing but shields, slotted perpendicular to the wall, with enough distance to allow someone to slip their arm into the leather straps and lift the shield out of its bracket in one swift motion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz felt like the Lord Protector had personally escorted her into heaven. When she looked back up at the woman’s face, there was a knowing smile dancing across her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not yet”, Grace spoke, and turned towards a bucket standing in the corner of the room. Yaz’s face must have fallen the instant the older Guard pulled one of the swords out, because the Lord Protector laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Patience, soldier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once again, Yaz felt the skin of her cheeks warm, and she nodded as she accepted the sword that Grace held out to her. It was of a much cheaper build than the ones lining the walls, with no decorative colours wrapped around the grip. Instead, there was a simple dark leather strap, and the edges of the blade were blunt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your own sword, if you please”, Grace spoke again, holding out a hand for it. Yaz leaned the practice sword against the wall, then proceeded to undo the belt that held her sword, and handed it over to the Lord Protector.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman regarded the weapon with a curious look, then lifted it up to her eyes, inspecting the hilt, and finally unsheathing the blade to inspect it fully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz suddenly felt nervous. Was she even allowed to carry her own, non-standard issue blade on the Guard? Would her sword be taken away? She watched as Grace’s eyes caught on the inscription on the blade, and felt relief when the woman smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Tis a fine weapon”, she said, sheathing the blade and carefully placing the sword on a rack next to her. “You can pick it up here after training.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Letting out a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding, Yaz reached for the practice sword and followed Grace once more, down another flight of stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your first week will be spent training daily with the other members of the Guard”, Grace spoke as she walked ahead of her. “After that, you will be serving on general palace duty for three weeks, taking over different tasks the way your superiors will see fit. Finally, the day before you take your solemn oath, you will have to face a test of strength and courage. After that, you will officially be a Dame of the Royal Guard”, the Lord Protector spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nerves fluttered in Yaz’s stomach at the mention of a test, and just as she was about to ask what exactly this test would look like, they stepped into the gleaming sunshine of a smaller courtyard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out there was Yaz’s world. Most Guards were engaged in one-to-one battle, some of them lingering on the edge, awaiting their turn. An older man, his hair white and an equally white beard adorning his well worn face, was walking around the combatants, occasionally shouting out to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your feet, Pond! It’s always your feet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The remark had been addressed to a redheaded woman, and Yasmin felt herself smile immediately. After years of being the only female City Guard, seeing other women in the uniform was a sight for sore eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She watched as the woman frowned in concentration and corrected her stance. With newfound balance, she moved three steps forward, striking the Guard opposite her with each one: left leg, right side, left shoulder. As her dull blade came crashing down on his shoulder, he let out a wheeze, being forced to one knee. Before he could react, the woman placed a foot on his breastplate, and kicked him onto his back, moving forward to let the tip of her blade rest against his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as she did so, a wild grin broke out across her face. Dropping her sword, she held out a hand towards the man on the floor, who was still wheezing. He accepted it, pulling himself up from the ground. To Yaz’s surprise, he didn’t look sour about his loss, instead there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I let you -” he began, but the redhead interrupted him with a laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure”, she replied. “Like the last three times, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her accent was foreign to Yaz, the “r”s standing out in particular, and it took her a moment to place the woman on a mental map of the kingdom - people from that far up North seldomly made it to the Capital.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now that the duel in front of her was over, the older Guard made his way over to Yaz and Grace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lord Protector”, he said, briefly bowing his head in Grace’s direction. “I take it you brought me the new recruit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that, Yaz jumped into action, bowing respectfully. “Yasmin, Sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she looked up, she found the older Guard scrutinizing her with a sharp look in his eyes. It felt intimidating, yet Yaz stood her ground, her gaze not wavering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, he spoke again. “I am Captain Albrek, adviser to His Majesty the King in all matters of war, and responsible for your training from here on out. I see you have already gotten yourself a sword. Let’s see what you can do with it. Pond!”, he shouted, and the redheaded woman looked up from where she was now standing, a wooden canteen in her hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Guard took a quick sip, then placed the canteen into the hands of the soldier she had just beaten, and walked over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Show this one the ropes”, Captain Albrek said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman nodded, and immediately turned to walk out towards one of the duel spots that she had just abandoned a moment earlier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz swallowed. She was to be thrown straight into it, it seemed, and in front of the watchful eyes of the Lord Protector. Gripping the handle of her practice sword tightly, she stepped into the marked off space. As soon as she stood opposite the other woman, the courtyard around her fell dead quiet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Great</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought, for once glad that her hands were entirely covered, thus preventing her from sweating all over the grip of her sword.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The redhead had a devilish grin on her face as she lifted her sword, signalling the beginning of their fight. Yaz did the same, shifting into a protective stance. They began moving in a circle, both women watching each other carefully. They moved forward from time to time, exchanging a series of quick blows, testing each other. Then, before Yaz knew what was happening, the other woman suddenly made a couple of quick steps, her blade whirling through the air, aiming for her right side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz almost missed the feint, correcting her stance just in time to deflect the blow that was now suddenly moving upwards. The clang of metal against metal rang through the courtyard, and Yaz balanced out the impact. The redhead was strong, that much Yaz had seen in the brief instant when she had watched her fight before, and still, she was surprised by </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> strong she really was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gritting her teeth as she held her stance, Yaz remembered Captain Albrek shouting out critique of the woman’s balance before. She briefly glanced down, and immediately noticed the woman’s slightly unstable position. Suppressing a grin, she pushed her sword up the other woman’s blade, crashing the hilts together as she pressed closer towards the woman. With a swift turn of her weapon, she immediately stepped away again, watching as the redheaded soldier tumbled, being forced to readjust her grip in order to regain control of her sword.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the perfect opening. And so Yaz dashed forward, grabbing the other woman’s shoulder, blade pulled back and ready to deliver a blow to the stomach, when suddenly something flashed in the corner of her eye, catching her attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blonde hair, behind one of the first floor windows, and green eyes, watching her intently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was not even a second, but it was enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the pommel of the other Guard’s sword crashed against the side of her head, the world around Yaz went black.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter :) As always, I love hearing your thoughts!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Not me using this to procrastinate on my thesis.</p>
<p>Hope you enjoy! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It took a good two minutes for the world to come back into focus, and even then, it was all still spinning around Yaz. As she brought her hand up to the left side of her skull, she was surprised when the tips of her gauntlet didn’t come back bloody.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Welcome to the Guard, Yasmin”, a voice over her spoke. Blinking, she looked up into the face of the redheaded fellow soldier whom she had just been duelling with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the blink of an eye, the memories came rushing back, and she felt her cheeks grow hot. Eyes trailing on the floor, she took the offered hand and let herself be pulled to her feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Distraction is deadly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz turned her head to see Captain Albrek shoot her a stern glance, then the older man turned around and walked away. She noticed a moment later that the Lord Protector was gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Great</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Yaz thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So much for making an impression.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded, her eyes fixing the redhead’s once again. The soldier smiled, almost apologetically so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Amy”, she said. “Sorry for knocking you out there. Went a bit harder than I should have, it’s just you gave me the perfect opportunity…” She finished with a sheepish shrug, and Yaz waved her off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was a fair fight”, she replied. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>distracted.” Yaz clenched her fists. “And it won’t happen again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Easy there”, Amy said, laughing. “Don’t take things too harshly. Captain Grumpyhead over there is just in a bad mood, that’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They went back to fighting exercises then, but Yaz couldn’t stop beating herself up internally. How was she supposed to be of any use protecting the royal family if a simple glance of them made her lose her entire focus? If she was to be of any use to them, she would have to train harder than ever. For the rest of the afternoon, she threw herself into every duel with everything she had, until the sun began to go down behind the palace walls and Captain Albrek finally called it a day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan joined them for dinner. They sat on wooden benches, bowls of beef stew steaming in front of them. Nothing had ever smelled more heavenly to Yaz before. Her hair matted to her forehead, she took off her gauntlets, stretching out her sore fingers. A massive blister was forming on her palm, just underneath her right index finger. She picked up her spoon with her left hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You'll get used to them", Amy said around a mouth full of freshly baked bread.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Everyone keeps saying that", Yaz sighed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I had to listen to her complain about them for weeks", Rory said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy threw him a deadly glance over a spoonful of stew, and the young man dropped his gaze onto his own plate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy had introduced him after their little duel. The two of them had been childhood friends, and had decided to join the ranks of the Royal Guard together. Like Yaz, they had first been City Guards, except way up North. When the draft letter from the Capital had arrived at their Captain's desk a couple of years ago, neither of them had hesitated to apply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Yaz had asked them if they were promised to each other, Amy had laughed, and Rory had looked like a puppy that had just had his treats stolen. She had quickly decided not to press the topic any further.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So”, Ryan said, unsuccessfully trying to hide a smug grin on his face as took a sip from his mug. "How's your head?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz felt cold shame trickle down her back. "So everyone knows already", she groaned. "Great."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan patted her on the back. "Don't worry about it. Everyone here has to take a beating from Amy at some point."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rory let out a dry laugh. “I'm pretty sure most Guards have a scar somewhere that has her name on it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Yaz looked up, Amy was grinning wildly, and did nothing to deny the statement. She made a mental note that if she wanted to impress Captain Albrek and the Lord Protector, Amy was the one to beat in training.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She really threw herself into training-week after that. By the end of it, she sported bruises all over her body, but she didn’t give up. She knew she was good with a sword, and Amy had simply had a headstart. On the days where the redheaded woman wasn’t around, Yaz quickly reigned supreme on the training grounds. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The final day of the week, as she leaned over Ryan, whom she had just disarmed and knocked down onto his knees, she swore she could see the faintest hint of approval in Captain Albrek’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There had been no more sightings of the Royal Family, and Yaz found herself simultaneously relieved and disappointed.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>As they stood to attention at the end of the final day, their brows covered in sweat and every single one of their limbs aching and begging for a soak in hot water, Captain Albrek looked over them. His hands were crossed behind his back, and his brow was creased.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did well”, he spoke, his gruff voice ringing across the courtyard. “Some better than others.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His gaze briefly lingered on Yaz, before he continued his speech. Amy, who stood next to her that day, elbowed her briefly, grinning, before she looked straight ahead again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But if you want to protect the Royal Family”, Albrek continued, “you have to do better. You have to push yourself. One day, their life might be in your hands. I expect that the next time I see all of you, you will think of that with every step you make. Dismissed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As they trotted towards the armoury, Amy stayed next to Yaz. “Oh my God”, she murmured as she slotted her sword in with the other training swords, and picked up her own from the wall. “I really need a hot bath. You?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz stopped dead in her tracks, her back turned to Amy. Up until now, she had managed to avoid using the communal bath area with any of the other female soldiers – even if it meant getting up early and waiting around after training, whetting her blade until she thought the others were probably all gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the other knights around them left the room, Yaz felt her cheeks grow hot. She wasn’t used to being around other naked people, at least not ones she wasn’t related to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amy walking towards the door, and stopping to look at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You alright?”, Amy asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah”, Yaz finally said, eyes still glued to the sword in her hand. “I’m just… really not used to communal bathing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah”, the other woman said, her gaze softening as Yaz finally looked up at her. “It took me a while to get used to it, too. My family didn’t have money to go to a bathhouse, so we made due at home. I get it.” After a brief pause, she continued. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I can go ahead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz shook her head, taking a deep breath. “No, it’s alright.”</span>
  <span></span>
    <br/>
  
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>In the end, she was really glad that she had decided to share her time with Amy. After the initial moment of awkwardness on Yaz’s part was overcome, they chatted away as the hot water soothed their tired muscles. It was a nice change from just sitting in there on her own, staring at the wall as she waited for relaxation to settle in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So”, Amy said as she emerged from having dunked her head into the water. She blinked, screwing up her face as the water stung her eyes. Her expression quickly changed into a playful grin that made Yaz raise an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leave anyone special behind in the city?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A flash of blonde hair, soft skin and glimmering eyes made Yaz’s heart beat faster and harder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oooh”, Amy said, her expression turning into a grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>God damnit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Yaz thought, trying to avoid the other woman’s gaze, as if Amy could suddenly look through her eyes and straight into her mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are they like?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz waited a moment, contemplating the water in front of her softly lapping up her skin. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. “She’s… unattainable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What an understatement</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought. When she realised that Amy was about to let out a waterfall of questions, she became suddenly aware of the dangers of the truth, like a weight dropping into her stomach. Turning towards her fellow soldier, she quickly spoke before the other woman could – two could play at this game.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about you and Rory?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The redhead responded by splashing water in Yaz’s direction. Not having expected it, some of it flew straight into Yaz’s mouth, and she screwed her face up in disgust, coughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing about me and Rory”, Amy finally replied, but as the water calmed around them, there was something shining through in her eyes that made Yaz smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know”, Yaz said as she leaned back against the rim of the bath, “women can ask for a man’s hand in companionship, too. This isn’t the ancient times.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>More water splashed her way. “Says Dame I-Can’t-Let-Other-Women-See-Me-Naked.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz stared at her for a moment, until she felt a laugh bubble up in her chest. “Not a dame yet”, she chuckled, wagging a finger in mock warning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The redhead smiled widely at her. “But soon. No doubt.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! I'm back with another chapter. In this one we find out a bit more about the world that Yaz is living in :) I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yaz was going to melt. She was going to melt and dissolve into her armour, and then everything that would be left would be the empty shell of her uniform, standing on this goddamn wall until the end of time while her soul evaporated into the sky above.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had been guarding the outer palace wall for three days in a row now, and she was already done with it. As if the burning sun in the clear blue sky above her wouldn’t be enough, its rays were reflecting off the gleaming palace towers and straight onto her back, effectively turning her armour into a boiling pot with her cooking inside of it. Underneath her helmet, her hair was plastered against her neck, and the tunic she wore underneath her chainmail was drenched. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was in desperate need of a cold bath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Flexing her fingers on the heavy crossbow she was holding, she let her eyes trail over the square in front of the palace. It was an open space, designed to make anyone who approached the gates immediately visible to the guards on the walls. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two knights on horseback appeared at the far end of the square, followed by a carriage and two more knights. They were heading across the square and straight towards the palace. Yaz tensed, the grip on her crossbow tightening as she squinted to make out any markers on either the knights’ shields or the carriage. She relaxed a fraction of a second later when she realised one of the knights in front was carrying the flag of the Kasterborous Alliance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alliance had been forged over two decades ago, when Yaz had still been a small child. Her parents had lived through an age filled with needless wars, murderous political intrigue and neverending battles over lands and riches. An assassination in the dead of night had seen the death of the wife of the Queen of Terserus, two Lord Masters to Karn had fallen on the battlefield, and Polarfrey had lost what amounted to basically an entire generation of young mages. Finally, a poison plot had seen the death of Gallifrey’s own Crown Prince and Princess, leaving the King’s granddaughter as the sole heir to the throne. Finally, there had been too much loss for anyone to still be able to bear it, and it was then that the four enemy nations had understood that there would be no winners in this war. It was then that they had come together to sign a peace that had lasted ever since. They had decided to name their Alliance after the biggest constellation in the sky, to show that all of them shone in their own right, but were even more radiant when they stood together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Lord Ambassador of Terserus!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shout came from above the gates, and it was followed by a messenger running across the courtyard and into the palace. Yaz kept her eyes fixed on the carriage, frowning. She hadn’t heard of any planned visits to the palace today. If a Lord Ambassador felt the urge to drop by unannounced, it must not only be an important, but also a pressing issue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My time to grill.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yasmin swivelled around, having been so focused on the carriage that she hadn’t seen another soldier approach her from the side. Even though the soldier’s visor was closed, Yaz recognised her immediately by her height.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dame Clara”, Yaz spoke, nodding as she opened her visor. “I must say I am quite glad to be relieved of my duty for the day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The knight opened her own visor, smiling towards Yaz. There was always a glint of mischief in her brown eyes, and when Yaz had first met her during training, she had thought that she would probably make an excellent friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Off to the baths with you then”, Clara said, holding out her arms to take the crossbow from Yaz. She handed it over carefully, then turned towards the nearest turret and walked away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She rushed across the courtyard, eager to be inside the cool palace walls. She took her helmet off as soon as she passed the threshold, and began walking up the stairs and turning into the corridor that led to the kitchens.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz stopped dead in her tracks when she realised that the corridor wasn’t empty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed, stood the Crown Princess. Her blonde hair was loose, reaching her chin in a soft wave, and she wore a long-sleeved doublet, paired with dark brown trousers and leather boots. The doublet, made out of blue velvet and adorned by circular, golden embroidery, shimmered faintly in the dim light of the corridor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz felt her breath catch in her throat. Until she had sworn the Oath of Protection, she was not allowed to be near the Royal Family, let alone speak to them. And yet, as she stood there in the corridor, she wanted nothing more than to walk up to the Princess, to say something to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t dare move. And as Yaz stood frozen in place, a million thoughts rushing through her head, the Princess suddenly let out a sigh, then pushed herself away from the wall as she opened her eyes. She turned towards the door on her left, straightening her shoulders as if readying herself for battle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right”, she muttered softly. “Politics. You got this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was then that a floor underneath Yaz someone carelessly, and most importantly loudly, let a door fall shut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess jumped, her head turning towards Yaz, their eyes meeting across the corridor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A heartbeat passed, then another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz regained her wits just in time to bow, as deeply as being in the presence of the Crown Princess commanded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Royal Highness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She remained like this, her eyes fixed on the carpet, her heart beating fast, until she heard one single word, softly spoken. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Soon."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment later, a door was being pulled shut, and when Yaz lifted her head, the Princess was gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took Yaz a minute to recover. Pulling herself out of her stupor, she stood in the corridor for a moment, staring at the spot where the Princess had been standing. Shaking her head, she started walking again. Her pace faltered for a moment when she passed the door the Princess had disappeared into, a familiar perfume hitting her senses. She breathed it in, momentarily closing her eyes, then quickened her pace once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was only when she arrived in the dining hall, still empty at this early hour, that she let out a long, shaking breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Crown Princess wasn’t supposed to be in the back corridors, the ones used by Guards, servants and messengers. By the look of it, she had fled for a moment of peace and quiet before meeting with the Ambassador. Yaz hadn’t been this close to the Princess since that evening a little over a month ago, but she found that she had remembered every detail of her face – from the shining golden specks in her eyes to the soft line of her jaw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz closed her eyes and clenched her fists. She couldn’t think like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tough day?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the other end of the room stood the cook, a loaf of bread under each arm. The grey-haired man smiled kindly, and Yaz felt herself smile back automatically.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Graham was undoubtedly her favorite person in the castle. The man had a heart of gold, and an incredible talent in the kitchen. Most importantly, Yaz had heard from Amy that Graham always had the right kind of dish to make you feel better after a hard day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yasmin nodded, taking off her gauntlets to wipe away the sweat on her brow. “Wall Duty”, she sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah”, Graham replied, nodding knowingly. “I think I got just the right thing for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He beckoned Yaz to follow her, and disappeared into the kitchen. It was the first time Yaz had ever been here, and she looked around curiously. A big workbench stood in the middle, and pots and pans lined one of the walls. There were multiple ovens, and a big fireplace in the corner. A large pot hung over it, steam rising from it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Graham went to work straight away, cutting slices off the loaf of bread he had just carried in. He took a small wooden board and positioned the slices on it, then went to a cupboard and produced a big chunk of cheese and a ham.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At this point, Yaz was almost drooling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he was finished laying out the ham and cheese, he grabbed some grapes off the workbench and added them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There you go, sweetheart”, he said, handing the board to Yaz with a big smile. “You go bring that to your room and then have a cold bath, you can eat afterwards.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are an angel, Graham.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as she was about to leave, Yaz’s gaze fell upon a little basket on the workbench, filled with similar items as the ones on her board. She couldn’t help but notice the care with which it had obviously been arranged, including the fact that Graham had added the good cheese to it, the one he usually only served on Sundays. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The older man noticed her gaze, and he cleared his throat as he scratched the back of his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah”, he finally said. “She forgets to eat, you know, so I have to make sure there’s always something prepared for her. She’s a hard worker, our Lord Protector.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz tried to hide her surprise. Apparently, she was not the only one in the castle whose heart was beating for someone above her station. She decided to not press the poor man any further, and instead thanked him for the food once again and left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she eased her hot limbs into a cold bath a quarter of an hour later, she let the images of the afternoon come back to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wasn’t surprised that the Princess wore men’s garbs at the Palace as well. Yaz had gotten the impression that she was of the practical sort, not to be fitted into frilly gowns and broad underskirts. Besides, shirts and doublets fit her exceptionally well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A memory flashed in front of her eyes, of a face hiding under a cloak, a strand of blonde hair peeking out at the corner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking a deep breath, Yaz pulled herself down, pushing her head under water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought, forcing herself to stay submerged until her lungs burned, and a little longer after that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Enough.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, as she lay in bed, her skin fresh and her stomach filled with bread and cheese, she thought about the day she had been told of her acceptance into the Royal Guard. She remembered the joy on her mother’s face, the pride in her father’s eyes. She remembered telling her colleagues of the City Guard, who had heartily congratulated her despite their own disappointment at not being accepted themselves.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Soon." </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
Yaz jolted upright in her bed as a sudden flash of realisation passed through her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The letter from the palace asking for volunteer recruits to the Royal Guard had arrived on her Captain’s desk not even a week after she had met the Princess. As was to be expected, many of the finest City Guards had applied for the prestigious position, quite a few of them with far more experience than Yaz. And still, she had been the only one who had been accepted into training.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz knew it was the truth as soon as the thought formulated in her mind: </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That letter had not been a call for recruits at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been a summons.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! If you enjoy the story, please consider leaving a comment :)</p>
<p>You can also come find me on tumblr. I'm @fuxdeiflswued and I promise I don't bite :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Enter hints of political intrigue and a familiar character 👀</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Karn has elected a new Lord Master.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Already? Was the previous one that old?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I think he's in his forties.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So he's old.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Amy, that’s still young.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you say so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the end of Yaz’s third week of training, and she was sitting in the armoury, whetting blades as she listened to Amy and Ryan talk. She had spent this week doing all sorts of small tasks that were nevertheless important – she had even gotten to help out in the kitchen one day, which, despite Yaz’s obvious lack of talent for cooking, had been her favorite day so far. Graham had been exceptionally kind, even when Yaz had burned the onions and set fire to a stew (which, as Graham had told her, was actually quite a feat). But after everyone had had to suffer through the burned meal, her supervisors had quickly assigned her to other duties for the rest of the week. Yaz thought that it had probably been the best decision when it came to her relationship with her colleagues, but she would miss getting to spend some time with Graham.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy and Ryan had shown up earlier, as she had been halfway through her armoury shift, intent on helping her out. She had protested, telling them that this was her job to take care off, and they should go and enjoy their free afternoons. The two had remained undeterred, telling her that they were meant to help each other out with this kind of thing. In the end, Yaz was glad she wouldn’t have to do it all on her own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t the Lords of Karn only elect a new Lord Master when the old one has died?” Yaz asked, keeping her focus on guiding the sword she was holding across the whetstone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or laid down his responsibilities”, Ryan replied. “Which they don’t really ever do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, this one has”, Amy chimed in. She was busy rewrapping the hilt of a sword, carefully tightening a strap of leather as she wound it around the steel underneath. “Who’s taking over now, anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan stopped polishing the shield he had been holding, and shot Amy a look that Yaz couldn’t quite place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lord Koschei of House Saxon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy dropped the leather, her eyes going wide. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My reaction exactly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz watched them exchange a glance, and finally, pushing down her embarrassment at the fact she had no idea what this meant, said: “I don’t understand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy turned around, gently laying down the sword between them. “Lord Koschei has been a known critic of the treaty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz suddenly felt cold, despite the layers of armour she wore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy, noticing her expression, nodded gravely, then continued: “The former Lord Master has always been quite outspoken about the importance of the Alliance. People said he was keeping Lord Koschei in check, so it makes no sense that he would step down </span>
  <em>
    <span>knowing</span>
  </em>
  <span> that the Lords were likely to elect Koschei.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe he didn’t have a choice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz and Amy both turned to Ryan, the latter furrowing her brow in confusion. “Ryan”, Amy said slowly, “what are you insinuating?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan carefully placed the shield on the floor, letting it rest against his knees. He stared at it for a moment, as if trying to decide how much he should say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There was a rumour, when I was a child”, he finally spoke, dropping his voice as his eyes darted towards the door before he continued. “That the House of Saxon was hiding a mage among their ranks.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy sucked in air through her teeth, her eyes widening, and Yaz’s hands gripped the sword tighter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan glanced up at Amy and Yaz, and continued, his voice now barely a whisper. “They said it was him.” He paused. “The Lord Koschei.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The air between them had turned cold it seemed, and all three soldiers sat, unmoving, letting the words sink in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not possible”, Amy finally spoke, breaking the tension that had built in the room. She shook her head violently as she picked up the sword lying next to her, continuing her wrapping work on the hilt. “They searched for magic everywhere after the treaty was signed. Nobody escaped the Binding.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan shrugged, and lifted the shield back into his lap. He began polishing it, his eyes fixed on the emblem that adorned it – the Circular Gallifreyan motto of the Royal Family, and at its heart, a stylised form of the constellation Kasterborous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Terserus seems nervous enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nobody could argue with that. The rushed arrival of the Terserian Ambassador last week, and the sudden increase in political advisors around the palace all spoke to it. The day of the Lord Ambassador’s arrival, the King had called upon Lady Sybill, the Duchess of Olew, who was only ever summoned for the gravest of matters. It was said that the King trusted nobody more than her, and if she walked the palace halls, the reason was never just a small political quarrel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz let it all go through her head as she continued guiding blades over the whetstone. Terserus was the only country in the Alliance that shared a direct border with Karn, which meant that if the new Lord Master decided to do anything that would threaten the peace, he would have to go through them first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No wonder they were nervous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz had always known that the peace that bound the nations together under Kasterborous was fragile, yet she had never stopped to properly think about how precarious the situation truly was. Her parents had always told her that she couldn’t understand, that she had grown up in a prospering country governed in peace. No foreign soldiers would ever destroy her home, and she would never have to worry about the safety of her family.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she sat in the Royal Armoury with her colleagues, a strange gloom lingering in the air between them, a sudden fear crept over her that all of that might not hold true forever.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz spent her final week before the Oath following the same schedule every day. She spent her mornings in the dust of the training grounds, fighting her way through duel after duel. The only colleague she had not managed to best was Amy, but she was determined to succeed one day. Her afternoons were spent either guarding the wall or the gates, and her evenings were now filled with lessons about general palace etiquette. Ryan, who had grown up in the ranks of the aristocracy, had volunteered to teach her all she had to know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obviously, in between learning the correct way to address all the nobles she would come across in her work, Yaz had tried pressing Ryan to divulge information on the infamous test she would have to face. He had answered every single one of her questions with a stern look and a shake of his head, until Yaz had given up. The way his body had tensed up every time she had broached the subject had not been helping to calm her nerves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were sitting in her room on the final night, a cheeseboard standing on the table next to them. Ryan was quizzing her one final time, and she began to wonder if the test the following day would include a sort of etiquette parcour where she had to bow to a room full of nobles in the correct order or be dropped into the dungeon straight away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And how would you address the Honourable Lady Heather?” Ryan asked, plopping a piece of cheese into his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Grace”, Yaz sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because she is married to a Duchess, which makes her a Duchess-consort. She gets the same honours as her wife.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who is?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sybill, Duchess of Olew.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Correct”, Ryan grinned. Then, his face turning mock serious, he leaned towards Yaz. He laid one hand on her shoulder, squeezing it softly. “You are ready, young soldier. There is nothing more I can teach you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz smiled, one eyebrow lifted. “Thank you, Sir Ryan. Except”, she continued, leaning closer towards him. “There is one thing I still know nothing about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No”, Ryan immediately said, pulling away and lifting his hands in defense. “You know full well by now that I am not allowed to talk about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing, Yaz sat back in her chair. “Fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should get some rest now”, Ryan said, his eyes trailing over the candle on the table, half of which had burnt down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he stood in the doorway, he turned around once more. He was smiling, but there was something else hidden behind it. “Good luck”, he said. “I really hope you succeed, Yaz.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with that, he was gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She slept badly that night, tossing and turning as her mind conjured up more and more thoughts about the coming day, each scenario worse than the one before. Occasionally, an image of the princess flashed in front of her inner eye and made her heart beat faster.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tomorrow, she would face the test, and, if she succeeded, take the Oath of Protection.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If she didn’t, she would never see the Crown Princess again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was woken up by someone hammering against her door and calling her name. Jolting upright, she instinctively reached for her sword, leaning against the head of her bed. There was no light coming in through the window, which meant it must be some time still before dawn. Yaz wasn’t sure when she had fallen asleep – it didn’t feel like she had gotten more than a couple of hours in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hammering on her door intensified, and before she could say anything, a soldier barged into her room. It was Clara, in full armour, sword unsheathed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Princess”, she spoke, her voice strained. “They have the Princess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yasmin was out of her bed before Clara could finish the sentence. She briefly glanced over at her armour, then down at her sword. She was wearing only the shirt and soft trousers she slept in, and nothing more. Putting on her armour would take away precious moments, moments she didn’t have.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no time. </span>
  <span>Without a second thought, she ran out of her room, following Clara who had already begun sprinting down the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A million questions flashed through her head as she ran behind the Guard. Was the Princess hurt? The grip on her sword tightened, and her jaw clenched. The thought that someone might have dared touch the Princess made Yaz’s stomach roil. She would make them pay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz bursted outside into the courtyard, the grovel cutting into her bare feet. She hadn’t even bothered to put on her shoes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking ahead, she stopped dead in her tracks. Clara had disappeared. Instead, all around her the other members of the Guard stood, forming a wide, open circle. Their visors were closed, their shields lifted towards the center of the circle. There stood a single knight, sword drawn, visor lifted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fight for your Princess’s life, or leave yours behind in this dust”, Amy spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz felt hot and cold all over as Amy reached up with her free hand, shutting her visor with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>clang</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The tall woman lifted her sword, taking up a fighting stance, and the other knights closed their circle behind Yaz.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz, who was barefoot, without armour or even a shield, holding only her sword.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So this was to be her test.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed this chapter :) In case anyone is wondering, the Master in this story is Dhawan!Master, I just thought House of Saxon had a nice ring to it :D</p>
<p>A special thank you to everyone who takes the time to leave a comment, it always makes my day to read them!! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here wo go, the big duel! had a blast writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>For a moment, the world around Yaz stood still. Everything was quiet, the only thing she could hear being the soft swoosh of her own blood in her ears. She dared a quick glance to the knights surrounding her. Even with their visors drawn, she recognised Ryan and Rory standing next to each other, the former gripping his sword way too tight, the latter nervously fiddling with the pommel of his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A thousand thoughts raced through her mind all at once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She only had her sword, which meant that allowing Amy to land a single hit could mean the end of this fight, and quite possibly her life as well. She doubted that Amy would purposefully land a killing blow on her, but she was also sure that the woman was just as unlikely to hold back. No, this was too serious to play games. Everybody would know if Amy hadn’t given it her all, and it would make Yaz’s win worth absolutely nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the two women began slowly circling each other, Yaz quickly realised that the ground underneath her feet would potentially be her worst enemy. If a stone cut into her bare soles at the wrong moment, she could lose her balance, or be distracted for just long enough. She gritted her teeth, trying to concentrate on the sword in her hands instead of the discomfort in her feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She watched as a drop of water hit the top of Amy’s helmet, and a moment later, another one hit her own brow. Yaz blinked it away, not daring to lift a hand to her face and give Amy an opening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A brief change in stance was enough to give Yaz warning. There was a flash of silver as Amy darted forward, and a moment later steel hit steel as Yaz grunted under the force of the attack. She pulled her own sword out from underneath Amy’s, swirling it around to aim for the woman’s shoulder, but the other knight was too quick to grant a hit. They jumped apart again, their swords stretched out in front of them, keeping each other at a distance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rain around them had started to fall in earnest, and Yaz sent a silent prayer to the stars for granting her the habit of always going to sleep with her hair in a braid. The few strands that were loose clung to her face quickly enough, but having all of it loose would have all too easily ended up in her vision being partially obscured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy’s next attack came without a warning. She hurtled herself at Yaz, trying to grab the guard of Yaz’s sword, who managed to pull herself sideways just in time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She saw the mistake in Amy’s footwork straight away: the slight miscalculation of balance, messaging to her that the woman wouldn’t be able to turn quickly enough. As Amy rushed past her, Yaz brought her sword down on the woman’s back with full force.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the visor muffling Amy’s voice, Yaz could hear her surprised outcry of pain. The knight fell forward, briefly going down on one knee, and Yaz lifted her sword ready to strike again. But as she took a quick step forward, the wet sand underneath her right foot gave way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the same moment that Amy pushed herself up from the ground, Yaz fell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She slid over the wet gravel, one of the larger stones cutting open the leg of her trousers and the skin underneath. Yaz had landed sideways in the dirt, her elbow taking most of the initial impact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The elbow of her sword hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz clenched her jaw, trying to regain her bearings, trying to see where Amy was. She blinked against the rain in her eyes, and a moment later, heard the telltale </span>
  <em>
    <span>swish</span>
  </em>
  <span> of a descending blade. She lifted her own sword, more out of reflex than anything else, and cried out as the force of the impact sent a jolt of pain through her right elbow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pulled her sword out from underneath Amy’s, and in the same, fluid motion rolled herself away across the floor. She jumped to her feet a second later, just in time to parry another one of Amy’s thrusts. They fought for control for a moment, a series of quick hits and parries, until Yaz just wasn’t fast enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz knew she had been cut before she felt it. As Amy turned her sword around for another attack, its edge was shining with blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She managed to lift her sword and parry Amy’s next blow, but the knight had brought down her sword with so much force that Yaz’s knees briefly buckled, the tip of her sword being pushed down to point at the ground. Before Yaz could react, the knight used an unusual manoeuvre: she stepped on the tip of Yaz’s sword, pinning it in place, and swung upwards at the same time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The world slowed down as Yaz turned and ducked, Amy’s sword soaring through the air just mere inches away from her neck. Using the weight of her own movement, Yaz managed to pull her sword out from underneath the knight’s armoured boot, quickly putting distance between herself and Amy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stood opposite each other once again, their chests heaving with effort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the middle of the circle, neatly cut off, lay the tip of Yaz’s braid. She could feel her hair beginning to unravel against her neck, and blood from her side seep into her shirt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was starting to feel sick. Yaz had never been able to best Amy, not a single time in the four weeks that she had been here. She felt dread creeping into her chest as she was beginning to realise that today did not look to prove any different. All those times that she had ended up with the redhead’s sword at her throat, begrudgingly murmuring “I yield” underneath the disappointed gaze of Captain Albrek, they were just about to repeat themselves in one final, most humiliating defeat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I will never see her again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought, and then, a moment later: </span>
  <em>
    <span>None of them know.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought hit her in the stomach like an iron gloved fist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was only one way for Yaz to protect the Princess from any harm that might befall her, especially now, with war on the horizon and potentially a hostile mage on the loose. She had to win this fight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked at Amy, her stance, her sword, her gleaming armour. Yaz had to end this, and she had to end it now. She knew what she had to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was risky, and she had never performed the move successfully in an actual battle scenario, and only a handful of times in training. If she failed, that would be the end of this fight. Even if she succeeded, the move came with a considerable risk of injuring herself in the process.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gritted her teeth, tightening her grip on her sword. Her elbow was still throbbing, and rain and blood were mingling on her shirt, plastering it to her skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With one final burst of energy, she threw herself at Amy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their swords clashed in the space between them. But before Amy could pull hers away, Yaz forced both of their swords up until their edges were no longer meeting and the blades were parallel. Then, she performed multiple moves at once: letting go of her sword with her left hand, she reached out for Amy’s arm, and at the same time, let the flat of Amy’s blade glide over her right wrist. At the exact same moment that she grabbed a hold of Amy’s sword arm, she turned her own blade over, hooking the guard of her sword over the edge of Amy’s blade.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With one final move, she turned, crashing her back into Amy’s, ripping at the redhead’s sword and holding her arm firmly in place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a brief moment, Yaz was sure the move had failed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, the unmistakable clattering of a sword hitting the ground reverberated around the courtyard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A second later, Yaz had let go of Amy’s arm, swirling around with her sword lifted. She stood behind the knight, her chest heaving, sword outstretched against Amy’s neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I yield.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment the words left Amy’s lips, the sword slipped out of Yaz’s hands, and she fell to her knees as tears sprang up in her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All around her, the knights of the Royal Guard unsheathed their swords, and one by one, they began hitting them against their shields.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dame!”, one of them shouted, and Yaz vaguely registered the voice as belonging to the Lord Protector. A moment later, the other knights started joining in. Their calls, punctuated by the rhythmic banging of swords against shields, rose all around Yaz, filling the courtyard as the sun appeared over the palace walls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dame! Dame! Dame!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as relief flooded through her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She vaguely registered the sound of something clattering to the ground, and a moment later, Amy was kneeling in front of her. The knight was no longer wearing a helmet, and her eyes were filled with worry and guilt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By the stars”, Amy breathed, grabbing Yaz’s arms and trying to catch a glimpse of her side. “I’m so sorry, is it deep? Yaz I –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you”, Yaz whispered, a faint smile on her lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, Amy looked confused, then her gaze softened as she understood. Yaz </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> thankful to her. Both women knew that she would not have been able to feel good about her victory, or even accept it, if Amy hadn’t given it her all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still”, Amy said, as she helped Yaz get up from the ground. “I’ll bring you straight to the physician myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Yaz could reply, a mass of silver and steel crashed into her, knocking the air out of her lungs. She hissed in pain at the sudden pressure on her wound, and Ryan immediately let go of her, an apologetic look on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry”, he said sheepishly. “But I really needed to give you a hug. Yaz that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the pain searing through her side, Yaz couldn’t suppress a grin. “Thanks”, she mumbled, and looked over at Rory, who looked at least as relieved as she felt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yasmin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Lord Protector and Captain Albrek stood behind her. As always, Albrek’s face was mostly unreadable, although Yaz thought she might be detecting a hint of approval hidden away behind his perpetual frown.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A fantastic show of skill”, the Lord Protector spoke. She took off the gauntlet on her right hand, and extended it to Yaz. As they shook hands, the Lord Protector smiled. “I have rarely seen anything like it. You will do well here, I am sure of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s heart sped up at the words of praise, and as the Lord Protector stepped aside, she turned to Captain Albrek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Next time”, he said, one eyebrow lifted, “bring at least a shield.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before he walked away, Yaz swore she could see the slightest uptilt at the corner of his lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy did insist on bringing Yaz to the physician straight away, and it took some convincing on Yaz’s part to keep Amy from actually carrying her there. When they walked in, Doctor Jones went straight to work, obviously having been prepared for a scenario in which she would have to take care of serious injuries today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not too deep”, she stated as she looked over the wound in Yaz’s side, and Amy breathed a sigh of relief in the corner. “You were lucky”, the physician added, shooting a stern glance at the redhead, who blushed and dropped her gaze to the floor. She looked like a chastised child for a moment, and Yaz had to laugh. She immediately stopped herself as a sharp pain shot through her side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Doctor Jones went to work, carefully cleaning the wound. It stung, but Yaz ignored it, trying to concentrate instead on the immense feeling of pride that was swelling in her chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once the wound in her side was bandaged, the worst part started. The physician had to pick gravel from Yaz’s leg, piece by piece. She clenched her jaw, closing her eyes as she turned her face to the side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No need to be brave here”, the physician spoke softly. “You do plenty of that out there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, the woman took a look at Yaz’s elbow. She held Yaz’s arm carefully, moving the joint and waiting for a pain response from her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a contusion”, she finally said, and Yaz let out a deep breath. Having a severe injury on her sword arm would have meant that Yaz had to spend her first days as a Dame away from action, performing menial tasks until she was healed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she sat up, Doctor Jones smiled at her. Yaz instinctively smiled back as she set up slowly, sensing a kindness emanating from the other woman. “You really need to pay attention to that wound in your side”, the physician said. “I recommend you take it easy for the rest of the day. You should rest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz and Amy started loudly protesting at the same time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I’m taking my –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t keep her from her Oath, Martha!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“– I can’t possibly –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She earned this –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“– the Princess –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Martha lifted her hands in defeat. “Fine, fine! Calm down, you two.” She sighed, shooting Yaz a stern look. “You can take your Oath today. But!”, she continued before Yaz could say anything. “I need you to go back to your room now and return there immediately after your Oath and rest.” She looked over at Amy. “You can make up for that wound by bringing her some food. Start with breakfast. I doubt you gave her a chance to eat anything before you dragged her out there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy stuck to Martha’s orders, sending Yaz off to her room while she went to get her some breakfast. As soon as Yaz was alone in her room, she let it all sink in. Placing her face in her palms, she finally let go, and cried. She cried from happiness, from relief, from pride.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In only a few hours, she would officially be Dame Yasmin, and then tomorrow… tomorrow she would finally see the Princess again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had all night to think about what she would say to her.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! If you liked today's chapter, please consider leaving a comment :)<br/>You can also always come scream at me on tumblr, @fuxdeiflswued</p>
<p>And if anyone is interested in the fighting moves Yaz and Amy use, they are from the "Fior di Battaglia" ("Flower of Battle"), the oldest sword fighting manual. If you want to see the moves in action, there is a great video on youtube with two fighters demonstrating some of them (including the ones I used for this story).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's your new chapter :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yaz had slept after breakfast. When she woke, the pain in her side was pulsating, but she pushed it aside. Soon, it would be time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy and Clara came to help her get into her armour, as her movements were a little bit constricted from her wounds. Yaz hissed as they pulled her cuirass tight. And although both women looked concerned, none of them spoke a word. They both knew how much the Oath meant to those who got to take it – and they had pushed their own pain aside the day they had taken it themselves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she was done, there was a sharp knock on her door. The Lord Protector had come to bring her to the Throne Room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re so proud of you”, Amy whispered as she gave Yaz a final hug. Clara grinned and nodded, handing Yaz her sword. As her eyes fell upon its hilt, she remembered the day her father had given it to her. The memory seemed so distant now, and like it had all happened yesterday all at the same time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She followed Grace out of her room and through the back corridors of the palace, until they took a turn, going down a way Yaz had never been before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grace opened a door on their right, and it immediately became clear that they were inside the main part of the palace now, the one Yaz had not been allowed in so far. Most of the polished wooden floors were covered in soft carpet, tapestries hung on the wall to their right, while the one to their left consisted mostly of large windows that looked out over the gardens. Another part of the palace Yaz had not had permission to enter yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything in this part of the palace seemed a little subdued; for one, no one was rushing. The maids and valets that Yaz could see as she and Grace walked through the rooms were all moving slowly but efficiently, barely making a sound. That was another thing Yaz noticed: the lack of sound. Besides the fire crackling in the corner, Yaz couldn't hear a thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Here we are." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz stopped, almost startled by hearing someone speak in a normal volume. Grace turned to her, a large double door in her back. Two Guards stood watch on either side, their visors drawn. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, Yaz could feel her nerves flutter in her stomach once again, and she swallowed hard. This was it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You will enter with me. We will bow once, briefly, as the door shuts behind us, then approach the Throne. When I stop, we will bow again, deeply this time. I will say a few words, and you will then take the final steps towards the throne on your own. You kneel in front of the Crown Princess, and she will take your Oath and knight you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All of a sudden, Yaz's heart was racing. Her head snapped up, staring at Grace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The Princess”, she said, swallowing heavily</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had thought that the King would be knighting her. She had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> that this was the protocol.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes", Grace said. "His Majesty is in an important meeting and Her Royal Highness is taking over for him."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no time to process the new information. Grace let her gaze drift over Yaz, checking if her uniform looked in order. When she was satisfied, she nodded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ready?" Grace asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz suddenly felt less ready than she ever had in her entire life. Still, she squared her shoulders, and took a deep breath. "Yes", she finally replied, her voice only slightly wavering. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the doors opened, Yaz's breath caught in her throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the lavish decorations of the room, the deep blue banners, the Royal Guards standing along the walls with their shields lifted, there was only one thing that Yaz could look at.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There she was, standing in front of a beautifully carved wooden throne, her golden hair pulled back in a short ponytail. She wore riding trousers and a deep blue, double buttoned vest over a white shirt. In her right hand, she was holding the ceremonial sword, the pommel at the end of its golden hilt adorned by a blue sapphire. What struck Yaz the most however, as it had once before, were the woman's eyes. They were looking straight into Yaz’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was smiling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz almost missed the doors shutting behind her, and quickly bowed. Then, she walked with Grace to the throne, and bowed again. As she stood in front of the Princess, she couldn’t take her eyes off of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they had run into each other in the back corridors two weeks ago, Yaz hadn’t had time to properly process it all. Now, her heart beat faster as she looked up towards the other woman.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She is beautiful.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Next to her, Grace started speaking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Royal Highness”, she said, her voice solemn. “I present to you Yasmin of the City Guard, who has shown the strength and courage necessary to be a protector to this palace and the Royal Family. By my honour as Lord Protector, I, Dame Commander Grace deem her worthy and recommend her into your service.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment passed, and then the Princess nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz took her cue, taking a few steps forward until she stood in front of the steps to the throne.  There, she sunk to her knees, her head humbly bowed, eyes trailed on the floor. She could see the tip of the ceremonial sword shining between her and the Princess. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yasmin", she heard a voice ring through the room, melodiously soft yet strong. Hearing the Princess speak her name again after all these weeks made warmth blossom in her chest, and it took all of Yaz's self control to not look up, wanting to catch another glance at the woman’s face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you swear to protect this palace and its inhabitants, should the need arise?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I swear."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you swear to protect His Majesty the King, and his granddaughter, the Crown Princess, against all harm that may befall them?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I swear."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you swear to give your life to achieve this goal, should the need arise?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz swallowed. "I swear", she said, her voice strong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And are you taking this Oath out of your own free will, without neither doubt in your mind nor fear in your heart?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She watched the tip of the sword disappear from her vision, and felt it briefly pressed against her right shoulder, then the left a moment later. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Then rise", the Princess spoke, "as Dame Yasmin of the Royal Guard, and henceforth fulfill these, your duties to the Kingdom of Gallifrey." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, a hand appeared in front of her eyes, and Yaz gently took it into her own, leaning forward to press her forehead against it, the way Ryan had taught her. The touch sent sparks flying all through her body, and before she could help it, she lifted her head and looked up at the Princess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyes went ever so slightly wide, and there was an unreadable expression on her face. Yaz let go of her hand, and they both let out a breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Yaz stood up, Grace appeared at her side once again, and handed the Princess a brooch. It was the shape of a stylised white bird, wings outstretched, head lowered. Yaz had seen it before, adorning the cloak of Ryan and every other knight who served on the Princess’s Guard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess took a step towards her, and took the brooch from Grace. As she pinned the elegant badge to Yaz’s cloak, on her right shoulder, she looked Yaz straight in the eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May your sword strike true and your courage be unwavering”, she said softly, and for a moment, Yaz forgot that there were other people in the room with them. But then the Crown Princess stepped away, and Yaz quickly bowed towards her. “Thank you, your Royal Highness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she straightened her back, the Princess had already turned to leave. As the blonde arrived at the door, she stopped, turning towards Grace. “I expect Dame Yasmin on first duty tomorrow morning, Dame Commander.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grace nodded, and gave a brief bow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with that, the Princess was gone.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span>---<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As promised, Amy brought Yaz dinner. She offered Yaz help to take off her armour after, but the freshly knighted woman refused. “I’ll be alright, I feel much better already”, Yaz said with a smile. It was a lie, but one meant to appease Amy’s worried mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy nodded, although she did not look entirely convinced. “Get to sleep straight away, will you?”, the redhead said as she got up from the chair next to Yaz’s desk. “I will not hear the end of it from Martha if you don’t heal up quickly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do my very best.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she was struggling through taking her armour off a few minutes later, Yaz cursed herself for not accepting Amy’s help after all. Her side had been consistently throbbing more and more throughout the day. She had pushed it aside for her ceremony, but now all she wanted to do was get out of all that metal and lie down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Putting on a comfortable shirt and trousers – Amy had lent her a pair of her own, since the ones Yaz usually slept in were now completely ruined - she briefly checked her bandages, softly prodding her side with the tips of her fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She immediately regretted doing that. The pain seemed to grow a hundredfold as soon as her fingers touched the bandages, and she pulled her shirt back down, quietly muttering curses under her breath. It was, she decided, probably best to follow the physician’s orders and try and go straight to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was easier said than done. Her mind was swirling with images of the day, and she replayed bits of the duel from the morning, filing away information about Amy’s fighting style for later. She had to ask the woman about that trick she did, stepping on her sword like that had been a move Yaz had never encountered. It would surely be helpful to master it for the future.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, there was also her ceremony. Yaz approached those memories with the care of an alchemist handling delicate vials filled with precious liquids, almost as if she was afraid to break them if she held onto them too tight. She carefully conjured up images of the Princess, holding them carefully, then setting them aside. Yaz would treasure each of them forever.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span>---<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span>When Yaz woke up, light was streaming in through her window, and she immediately knew that something was wrong. She tried to figure out what it was, but her mind seemed too sluggish to properly grasp it. She wanted to move, but found herself suddenly inexplicably weak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, a pain flashed through her side as if it had been sliced open a second time, and she let out a small cry. She threw her covers away, and found her shirt drenched – partly in sweat, partly in blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wanted to call for someone, anyone, to come get her, but she could not find the energy to do so. Instead, she fell back into her covers, giving herself over to the heat which had begun rushing through her blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Time stopped passing in a normal way. Yaz drifted in and out of consciousness, for the stars knew how often and how long. Distorted visions started to mingle with reality around her, and it became increasingly difficult to tell the two apart. Shadows cast by candles seemed to be moving across the walls, edging ever closer towards her, their hands outstretched. At some point, she was sure that the white bird on her brooch had come to life and sat on the edge of her bed, watching her through piercing blue eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes, she came to as someone leaned over her, speaking to her, but still she could not talk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>First, there was Martha Jones, applying something to her wound, something that burned even more than the fire inside of Yaz. She thrashed around, trying to stop Martha from touching her, but strong hands held her down a moment later. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Yaz”, she heard Ryan’s voice from somewhere over her, and she realised that it must be his hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She drifted away again as Martha applied more of the salve to her wound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some of her colleagues sat at her bed, although she wasn’t sure for how long. Amy dutifully kept swiping away the sweat from Yaz’s forehead, murmuring softly to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll be alright”, she said, and even in her feverish haze, Yaz could hear the guilt in her voice. “You’re strong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next time she woke, she was alone in her room. Someone must have opened the window, because Yaz could feel a hint of a cold breeze on her face. All of a sudden she felt like she couldn’t breathe properly, like she needed more of the fresh air. She had to get to the window, feel the night air on her face, breathe it in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She rolled onto her side, and was immediately blinded by her pain. Sinking back into the covers, she felt tears streaming down her face and mingling with her sweat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the background, Yaz faintly registered the creaking noise of someone stepping on the wooden floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yasmin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She recognised the voice instantly. Her heart beat fast into her chest, and it was almost painful. Tears still stung in the corner of her eyes, and she felt betrayed by her own mind, because it had decided to torture her with a vision that could never be real.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess would never come to her room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yasmin”, the voice whispered again, closer this time. She opened her eyes to see the Princess leaning over her, looking afraid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t be afraid</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Yaz wanted to say, but the words didn’t come out. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is only a dream. Please don’t be afraid.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She felt her shirt being lifted, and was briefly self-conscious about the Princess seeing her like this, before she remembered the irreality of this moment. Yaz moved her head, so she could see the Princess’s hands on her bandages, gently lifting them away from her skin. The Princess looked up at her, and Yaz realised that she was kneeling next to her bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You shouldn’t kneel</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s supposed to be the other way around.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yasmin”, the Princess spoke again, urgency in her voice. “This is badly infected. I don’t have much time before someone will come and check on you. You will have to stay quiet. Do you understand?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s head was filled with fog, but she nodded. She could do that, for this dream-vision of the Princess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, the Princess peeled away the rest of the bandages, leaving Yaz’s wound fully exposed. Even in her current state, Yaz could tell that it was bad. The skin around the wound was bright red, and the wound itself looked too dark and angry to mean anything good. When had it gotten like this?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess lifted her hands, palms outstretched over Yasmin’s side, and began to hum.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz had forgotten that she had to do that. She thanked her subconscious for remembering, and  smiled as she listened to the simple tune. A moment passed, then the Princess’s hands began to glow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a soft shimmer at first, barely noticeable, like shining dust particles swirling around her fingers. Then, it grew in intensity, slowly turning into a bright golden light. The Princess continued to hum as the light danced over Yasmin’s skin, instantly easing her pain. Yaz closed her eyes, relishing in the feeling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It only took a minute, then the Princess grew quiet again and Yaz felt her bandages being put back into place. She opened her eyes, blinking sluggishly at the Princess. Yaz felt warm, but unlike the heat of the fever that had raged through her before, this felt comfortable. More, it felt like home. As the Princess readjusted her shirt, Yaz felt herself being pulled back to sleep once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, she felt a soft hand on her cheek. It felt so real that Yaz almost believed it was, and she kept her eyes closed, trying to capture the feeling for as long as it would last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Juliannah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the first word she had spoken since the fever had started, and it was barely a whisper. Yaz blinked her eyes open one last time, looking up at the Princess’s face, which was now hovering over hers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Her eyes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Yaz thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, her eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, the Princess leaned down and placed a featherlight kiss on Yaz’s forehead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sleep, Yasmin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Yaz woke up the next time, the sun was shining through the closed window, and she was alone.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>👀👀👀 Not gonna lie, super excited to hear you guys' thoughts on this one :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! First off, thank you so much for your comments on the last chapter, they totally made my day!! :D</p>
<p>Now, we are finally about to find out a bit more about the Princess and "that night" 👀👀 So here is an extra-long chapter for all of you. I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Two months prior</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Juliannah.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She got up from her desk as soon as she heard the voice. With a few quick steps, she was next to her bed, where she lifted a loose panel from the floor. Ignoring the old tomes, carefully held together in a small bundle by a piece of silk thread, she reached for her cloak instead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t forget to set your illusion.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sighed, throwing the dark red cloak around her shoulders. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not the first time I’m doing this,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought as she slipped into her leather boots.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I heard that.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she was dressed, she walked back to her desk, and opened the large window next to it. On the windowsill sat the most impatient looking bird anyone could ever imagine. His pearl white feathers formed a small tuft at the top of his head, and his long tail feathers curled elegantly outwards. His sky blue eyes looked straight into hers, and she swore that if he could have raised an eyebrow at her, he would have.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Illusion, Juliannah.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lifting her right hand to her chest, palm facing outward, she closed her eyes and began to hum. She concentrated on the forces flowing through the air around her, and started gently pulling them, thread by thread, into a new shape around herself. When she was done, she gave some of them a little tug, checking if they would stay in place. Satisfied, she opened her eyes.</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She immediately took a strand of her now long hair between her fingers, inspecting its colour. It was a deep, rich brown. “Still not ginger”, she sighed. “Other than that, how do I look?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Like I couldn’t remember your face if I tried.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfect.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The illusion was what had kept her safe over the last year. She had been wanting to wear a mask at first, but Caladrius had insisted on the spell instead. “Masks can be pulled off”, he had said, and Juliannah had finally had to admit that he was right. It had taken her weeks to perfect the spell that would give her a different face every time, the only similarity between them being that each of them was both perfectly ordinary and absolutely indescribable. Whoever saw her, even if they were to spend hours with her, they would not be able to describe or even remember her face the moment she was out of sight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caladrius shook his feathers, then shuffled around until his back was turned towards Juliannah.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ready?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As ready as I can be”, she replied, and gently took one of his tail feathers into her hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was the one feeling she had still not gotten used to. The moment she closed her eyes and her fingers curled around Caladrius’s feather, there was a bright light inside her head, and she felt the confines of her body slip away, like water running into the ocean. She felt a tug where her heart was, and then, all around her, a new body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she opened her eyes, she saw the world from above as Caladrius took flight. She could feel the wind in his feathers, now hers as well, and the gentle feeling of an updrift catching under his wings. If Juliannah wanted to, she could take control over Caladrius’s body, guide it herself, but that would be an impossible breach of trust. He had explained to her that this bond between a mage and their magical beast was sacred, and that, back when there had been an abundance of magic users, not everyone had been chosen by one of his kind. Juliannah’s magic had awoken when she had still been a child, and Caladrius had come to her soon after. He had been both a teacher and a friend, but it had been many years until he had allowed her to fly with him for the first time. Then just like now, she had understood what an immense honour it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“We need to talk about that habit of yours”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have no idea what you mean.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Juliannah.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a cautionary tone in his voice, and Juliannah didn’t like it one bit. The fact that she still needed something to help her concentrate while she performed her magic was a sore spot, and she usually managed to avoid the topic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I did not think that you would stoop to this, Cal. Cornering me in your own mind?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Underneath them, the palace walls had given way to the city, relatively quiet as the day came to an end. The market stalls had disappeared, and only dim candle light shone out of windows here and there. There was the occasional City Guard, patrolling the streets, but other than that, the streets underneath them were ready to go to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You change the topic every other time I try to bring it up.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m working on it.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Are you?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Cal!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I am worried, Juliannah. That is all. One day, you will need to perform your magic quickly, and there will be no time to gather your concentration first. Or you will be in a situation that requires you to cast </span>
  </em>
  <span>quietly</span>
  <em>
    <span>, and you won’t be able to. You know the risks if you ever got caught, Juliannah. The fact that you are Crown Princess will be of no help, then. On the contrary –”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It could start a war. I know.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a moment of tense silence between them. She knew Caladrius was only concerned for her wellbeing – she was painfully aware of the consequences of being caught herself. When the Alliance had outlawed magic over twenty years ago, all mages had had their powers bound. Those who refused to submit – and there had not been few – had been executed. Until this day, the charge for performing magic was High Treason against the Alliance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite being all too aware of the risks, Caladrius’s insistence on the topic pained her. The fact that her thoughts were always so loud and busy made it difficult to cast, and the humming had been a great help for her. It was not the fact that he criticised her for it that hurt, it was her own self-doubt over her ability to be a good mage. To make the best of her powers, and truly help people.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You </span>
  </em>
  <span>are</span>
  <em>
    <span> helping people, Juli.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The use of her childhood nickname sent warmth through chest, and she felt Caladrius's smile as the feeling hit him as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’re here.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had crossed the city wall, and were hovering over a little patch of forest just next to it. Behind the trees, small houses stood, surrounded by fields and pastures. Carefully, Caladrius descended in between the trees, landing on the ground a moment later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once again, Juliannah’s vision blurred as she felt the body around her dissolve into nothing, and then her own taking shape around her once again. Once she could feel her own skin again, she took a few deep breaths, steadying herself before opening her eyes again. The world around her suddenly looked dull – Caladrius’s vision was a good deal better than hers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah walked over to a familiar tree stump, and reached inside. She pushed some leaves around until her fingers hit something solid, and she pulled it out. It was a small enamel badge, depicting an open hand with a sun shining in its palm – the old symbol of the guild of mages that had specialised in healing. It was the only way for people to recognise her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pinned it to the front of her cloak, then pulled the hood over her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll see you later, Cal”, she said, and she watched as the bird stretched his wings and took off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Be careful.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Always.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah waited until he had disappeared into the sky, then started walking through the forest until she reached its end. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first time she had come here, the villagers had been afraid. No matter how hard she had tried to reassure them, to tell them she was only there to help, they had cursed at her, called her a witch and a traitor to the peace treaty. Even though Juliannah had known that they were merely talking out of fear, the words had stung – she was not a War Mage, nor did she ever intend to become one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, she had returned, every last day of the week when the sun had set, and had waited at the edge of the forest for someone to call for her help. After two months, she had almost given up hope. One last time, she had told herself, she would come here, and then she would accept that her help was not and would not ever be wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That night, a woman had been waiting for Juliannah as she stepped out of the forest. She had kept her distance from Juliannah, nervously fiddling with her dress. Her husband, she had told Juliannah, was a farmer. He had shattered his leg in an accident two weeks ago, and his resulting incapacity to work meant certain ruin for the entire family. His wife, desperate to feed their young children, had found no other solution than to ask Juliannah for help.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once she had healed Robin Tallison’s leg, the ice had been broken. From that day on, more and more people came to her, asking to heal them or their loved ones. None of them knew who she was, but after a few months, they had given her a name themselves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doctor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stepping out of the forest, Juliannah immediately recognised the worried face of Muriel, the oldest of the Amakir children. The young woman was squinting in the dark, scanning Juliannah’s cloak for the familiar symbol. When she saw it, there was relief painted across her features.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doctor, come quickly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She followed Muriel into the village. Here and there, people stopped, letting their right hand rest on their heart for a moment, the old symbol of respect. It was seldom seen anymore in Gallifrey, except if you happened to live in the palace – it was also the Royal Guard’s salute. Juliannah wanted to stop and ask some of them how they were doing, if their wounds were healing, if their colds had gotten better. But judging by the speed at which Muriel was walking, there was no time to be wasted. She led Juliannah past her own house and towards that of her parents, and Juliannah felt a small sense of relief at the thought that Muriel’s wife was fine  – the two had only gotten married a month ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The feeling evaporated as soon as she stepped into the Amakir house. Bennet Amakir, widowed father to the four Amakir daughters, was crying in the corner, holding on to the impossibly pale hand of Ava, the youngest. She lay on a bed of hay, her eyes closed, her forehead covered in sweat. Her chest was not moving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doctor”, Bennet sobbed, looking up as he heard the door open. His eyes were bloodshot, like he hadn’t properly slept in days. “Doctor, I think she stopped breathing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Muriel let out a small cry next to Juliannah, covering her hand with her mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no time to waste. Juliannah went and knelt next to the bed, placing the palm of her right hand on Ava’s head. Bennet’s eyes went wide. “Can you still help?”, he asked, the faintest glimmer of hope in his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah didn’t reply. Instead, she closed her eyes, letting her mind wander into the young girl’s. Usually, this was not to be done without the explicit consent of the other person, but that was clearly impossible at this point. The moment her mind touched the child’s, she held her breath. If there was only darkness to be found, then she would truly be too late.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She felt it. There, at the very edge of Ava’s mind, was the faintest spark of light.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes”, she replied as her eyes flew open. “Yes, I can!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fresh sobs broke out of Bennet, and she felt Muriel’s hand squeeze her shoulder from behind. “I need to concentrate”, was all Juliannah said. “There is not much time left.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Immediately, Muriel’s hand left her shoulder, and she walked over to her father, guiding the man away from his child and into the corner. “Let the Doctor work”, she said to him. “She will help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah faintly registered them sitting down behind her, next to the door. Her right hand still on the girl’s forehead, she gently placed her left one on her chest. Her stomach churned as for a brief moment, she allowed her own fear to settle in. She knew this would take an enormous amount of energy, and she had never pulled anyone back from the brink of death before. Letting out a long breath, she let determination overtake her own fear. She could do this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Closing her eyes, she began to work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She guided her magic through the body underneath her hands. First, she went to the root, melting away the sickness that was raging through the cells, bit by bit. She lost track of time as she checked and double checked, making sure that no sickness survived. Then, she began delicately healing the damage the sickness had done to the girl’s lungs. There was quite a bit of it, and Juliannah took her time fixing it all. She wanted to leave no scar tissue behind – Ava was only ten years old, she deserved to be back to full health when she woke up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After all this was done, came the most difficult part.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once again, she ventured into Ava’s mind. The spark she had seen when she had begun her work had almost completely burned down. It was like a piece of coal after the fire had been blown out – a hint of heat still crackling underneath the surface. It was all Juliannah needed to start a new fire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ever so gently, she began fanning the spark with her magic, until it regained a warm glow of its own. Trickling her own energy into it, bit by bit, Juliannah began to grow the fire, until she felt a consciousness returning to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mom?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voice was small and scared, and Juliannah quickly sent a wave of calming energy towards it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s the Doctor”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she replied, sending an image of her badge into the girl’s mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ve come to help.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She felt Ava’s confusion as she tried to grasp what was happening, and she showed more images to her. Of Muriel, coming to get her at the forest, of their father holding his girl’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Am I…”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the voice asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the Doctor replied quickly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Your sister got me just in time. If you want, you can open your eyes again now.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gently, she pulled back into her own mind. She took a brief moment to adjust to the feeling, then opened her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the bed in front of her, Ava lay with her eyes open, looking up at Juliannah. She blinked sluggishly, like someone had just rudely awoken her from a deep slumber.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The deepest of them all, almost</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Juliannah thought as she smiled at the little girl, who tentatively smiled back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ava? By the stars, she’s –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bennet and Muriel appeared at her side at the same time, the former falling to his knees as he pulled Ava into his arms. “My girl”, he whispered as tears streamed down his face. “By all the saints, I thought I’d lost you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doctor”, Muriel said, her own eyes filling with tears. “Doctor, I don’t know how to thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah smiled, holding out a hand towards the other woman. “You could help me up, for one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Muriel pulled Juliannah to her feet, she immediately enveloped her into a bone-crushing hug. Juliannah felt her body go stiff at the unusual contact – at the palace, there were not many people that were even allowed to touch her like this. Her ladies maid, the physician, and of course her grandfather, the King. If anyone else would dare come this close to her, her guards would make short work of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment, she let herself relax into the embrace. When Muriel let go of her, Juliannah’s vision went blurry for a moment, and she swayed on her feet. Muriel immediately caught a hold of her arm, and guided her over to a chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doctor, are you alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a little dizzy. It will pass.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Judging from Muriel’s frown, the woman didn’t quite believe her. And she was right not to. Juliannah had never used this much of her energy at once, and she was exhausted. The thought of more healing tonight made her feel sick, her own body warning her of overexerting herself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything I can do?” Muriel asked, and Juliannah relented. “If I could have one of your wife’s delicious fried egg sandwiches and a glass of water… that would be grand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Smiling, Muriel turned to the door. “Coming right up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as the woman was gone, Juliannah closed her eyes, reaching out towards Caladrius as she leant back in the chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Contact.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Juliannah.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She knew something was wrong the moment she heard his voice. He sounded strained, in pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What happened?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I… had an altercation with a… less friendly one of my kind.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah sat upright in her chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You were attacked?”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she asked, feeling panic bubble up in her chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I am alright, Juliannah. I chased him away.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She knew he wasn’t telling her everything. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“But?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sigh reverberated through her mind, before Caladrius spoke again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“My wing is injured.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now this was worth a moment of panic. Juliannah’s mind began racing as she wondered how on earth she was going to get back into the palace. If she wasn’t there by morning, the guards would raise the alarm, everyone would be searching for her, and then… if only one of the villagers put two and two together, they would know who she truly was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can still fly you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah frowned. Caladrius sounded like he wasn’t well, and for a moment, his concentration wavered. She felt it then, the sharp pain in his left wing, where a claw had gotten caught in it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caladrius must have realised he had let her see too much, and she felt him close the connection off just a little bit. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I can still fly you home.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No”, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she replied, her resolve strengthening. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t you worry about me, I’ll find a way. What about you? Where are you? I can come and get you. I’ll bring you home for once.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah vaguely registered a door opening next to her, but she kept her focus on her bond with Cal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I am too far away, but I am in a safe space. It’s too dangerous for you to come out here. I will stay until my wing has healed, it will only be a few days. Do you have enough magic left?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I do.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a lie. There was barely anything left, but if she admitted to that, she would only make Caladrius worry more. Knowing him, he would probably try to come get her despite his injuries, and it would take Juliannah at least till tomorrow morning until she would have enough energy again to tend to his wounds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Alright then.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She could feel his unhappiness with the situation, and his worry. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Send me a message when you have made it back into the palace. I will come see you soon. Stay safe, Juliannah.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You, too.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Letting go of the connection, Juliannah opened her eyes to find Muriel extending a plate towards her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May all the stars shine for you, Muriel Amakir”, Juliannah said as she took the plate from her. The moment she swallowed the first bit of the sandwich, she sighed. “Your wife is a genius”, she mumbled in between two bites.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s why I married her”, Muriel grinned. She sat down next to Juliannah, and a moment later, Bennet joined them as well, putting a finger on his lips and cocking his head towards the bed. Ava was asleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good”, Juliannah whispered. “She needs rest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As do you, Doctor”, Muriel said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah couldn’t argue with that. “Are there any more people who need help tonight?” she asked, desperately wishing for the answer to be no.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well”, Muriel began, and Juliannah’s heart dropped. “There were a few, but it was just a couple of bruises and a cough. I told them to stop being babies and wait until next week.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah smiled. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Doctor”, Bennet said, and he reached over to squeeze Juliannah’s hand. “Thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She said her goodbyes a moment later, having some of her strength returned through the meal. Bennet insisted on walking her back to the forest, while Muriel kept watch over Ava’s bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the edge of the forest, he took off his cap, and placed his hand on his heart. “We’ll never be able to repay you, Doctor”, he said, fresh tears shimmering in his eyes. She took a step towards him, smiling as she laid a hand on his arm. “And you will never have to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded, putting his cap back on. “Get home safe, Doctor”, he said. “Wherever that may be.” With that, he turned, and walked back towards the village.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Juliannah entered the forest, her mind was racing. She stored her badge in the tree stump, covering it with leaves. She could feel the threats of illusion she had spun around herself weakening, and as she began walking in the direction of the city walls, for the first time in a long time, she felt afraid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She watched the gate from the edge of the forest for a little while. Juliannah knew that the guards kept a rotation around the four city gates, with one guard permanently stationed on the wall above each gate. There was a couple of minutes during each rotation when that guard was the only one at the gate, and it was that exact moment that Juliannah was waiting for – the moment the male guard in front of the gate would leave his post and begin walking towards the East Gate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was painfully aware of how little magic she had left, and she knew that getting through that gate would potentially cost it all. Juliannah had no idea how she would manage to get through the city after. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>One step at a time</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought, and in that moment, the guard in front of the gate started moving. As soon as he was around the corner, she began intoning her melody. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander to the guard on top of the gate. This was the second time tonight that she would reach out to another person’s mind without permission, and she hated it. But there was no other choice. She only had a couple of seconds before he would notice that something was wrong. As soon as she touched his consciousness, she gave his body one single command.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sleep.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the distance, she heard the silent thud of a body hitting the floor, and she opened her eyes again. Her vision darkened at the edges, as more energy left her body, but she clenched her jaw, and forced herself to regain focus. She had about a minute until the guard from the West Gate would arrive. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the forest, hurrying towards the gate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was locked, which she had expected. Still, she felt beads of sweat beginning to form on her forehead as she placed one hand on the door. As quietly as possible, she hummed. Around the corner, footsteps approached, and Juliannah felt panic rise inside of her as her concentration faltered. This was exactly the kind of situation Caladrius had warned her about. She had to be quick and quiet, and found herself unable to be either. To top it all off, she could feel the threats of illusion she had spun around herself beginning to loosen as the last bits of energy left her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Halt!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her entire body went cold all over. She quickly glanced down, and saw a peak of blonde hair, sticking out from the hood of her cloak. The hair always changed first. If she turned around now, the guard might recognise her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Show yourself!” the guard called again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had no choice. Slowly, she reached up, and pulled her hood away as she turned towards the guard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman was holding a torch in one hand, and her unsheathed sword in another. Her dark hair was in a braid that fell over her shoulder, and her brow was furrowed. She looked like she was trying very hard to look severe and confident. Juliannah gathered the guard must be around her own age.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I –” Juliannah began, raising her hands in a show of being unarmed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Immediately, the guard drew in a sharp breath. Her eyes went wide as she stared at Juliannah’s hands, and it took the Princess a moment to realise her mistake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the edge of her vision, she saw a faint gold shimmer, still dancing around her fingertips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please”, Juliannah said, her vision slowly going dark at the edges again. She blinked, hard, trying to keep herself conscious by sheer force of will.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Not now.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise”, she said, and finally, the sparks in her hands disappeared. “I was just trying to open the gate.” She paused, scrunching up her face. “Which I realise sounds bad. But I–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She swallowed, swaying slightly on her feet. To her surprise, the guard took a step towards her, and the expression on her face changed slightly. At the same moment, she felt another thread of the spell that surrounded her fall loose, and a second later, there was a sharp pain in her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah”, she hissed, pressing one of her hands over her eyes. She had forgotten how painful it could be when a spell ran out, instead of being carefully removed. All over her body, she could feel cold sweat breaking out, and a shiver ran down her spine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you...”, the guard said, taking another step towards her. “Are you alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah blinked, slowly letting her hand drop from her face. She felt better suddenly, lighter. As she looked up into the guard’s face, she felt herself smile. “Yes”, she replied. “Yes thank you, I feel –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before she could finish the sentence, the world around her went black.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter :) Let me know your thoughts in the comments!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>P.S: My wife got me a clicky keyboard as an early birthday gift I SHALL BE UNSTOPPABLE NOW</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed the little flashback last week – we're back in present time for now. Yes, I'm sorry, but you'll have to sit on that flashback cliffhanger for just a little while longer ;) not too long though, I promise!</p>
<p>Also, I wanted to take this moment to say thank you to my friend joli, who has endured me talking about pretty much nothing but this fic for the past weeks and also keeps enabling me by screaming about it all with me xD You are awesome!</p>
<p>And now, on to today's adventure! :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I have never seen an infection heal like this overnight.”</p>
<p>Doctor Jones was in a chair next to Yaz’s bed, closely inspecting her side. She frowned as she gently prodded the edges of the wound with her fingers, glancing up at Yaz now and again to see if the knight would react to any lingering pain.</p>
<p>Yaz had woken up a week ago to her fever suddenly broken and the infection in her side completely gone. When Amy had come into her room that morning, Yaz had sat up in bed, her pillow propped up behind her back to make herself more comfortable, a smile on her face. The redhead had nearly dropped the soup she had been carrying, moving instead to quickly place it on the table before she rushed out to get the royal physician. She had stood impatiently next to her bed while Martha had given Yaz a full check-up, the surprise on the Doctor’s face growing more and more as she realised that Yaz was all but healed. The only thing that had remained was for the wound to fully close. </p>
<p>The moment Martha had stood up, proclaiming that Yaz would be fine after another few days on bedrest, Amy had fallen straight into Yaz’s arms. “I thought I’d –” she had begun, tears in her eyes. Yaz had simply hugged her back, the two friends holding onto each other for a little while until they pulled apart. “Apparently, you can’t get rid of me that easily”, Yaz had said, a grin on her face, and Amy punched her in the arm, shaking her head. “No jokes”, the redhead had warned, but she, too, had begun to smile again.</p>
<p>“So”, Yaz asked as Doctor Jones pulled away, scribbling notes onto a piece of parchment on the desk. “Fit for duty?”</p>
<p>Yaz could barely remember anything from the, as it turned out, three whole days she had lost to the fever haze. What had however been absolutely excruciating was the week on bedrest that had followed it. Every day, she had felt stronger, and every day, the itch to be outside had grown as well. Sometimes, when she had been alone in her room, she had gotten up and grabbed her sword, walking through some simple exercises in the limited space that she had. Unfortunately, Martha had caught her on day three and wordlessly confiscated the weapon while shooting her a glance that could kill.</p>
<p>With a sigh, Martha stood up and walked towards the door. Yaz’s brow furrowed, worry overcoming her. Would the woman really make her stay in bed for longer? At this point, Yaz would not have ruled out climbing out of the window to escape her confinement and join the training sessions instead.</p>
<p>But a moment later, Martha reappeared in her doorway, Yaz’s sword in her hands.</p>
<p>“Yes!” Yaz exclaimed, jumping up from the bed. “Oh my stars, finally.”</p>
<p>“Nothing speaks against you taking up your duties again, Dame Yasmin. I would advise you to take it slow for another few days, but I realise that at this point such a request would be futile anyway.”</p>
<p>Yaz smiled sheepishly as she ran her hand over the hilt of her sword. “I’ll uhm… do my best?”</p>
<p>Martha dismissively waved a hand through the air. “Don’t even try.”</p>
<p>That night, Yaz joined the other knights in the dining hall downstairs for the first time since her duel. As she stepped into the room, there were some cheers from her colleagues here and there, some of them standing up to shake her hand as she passed their tables, telling her they were glad she was feeling better. Yaz nodded and smiled, feeling both overwhelmed and thankful at the same time. Even the soldiers she had barely gotten to know yet, the ones she had only faced in a short training duel or met when she took over their post on the wall, were smiling at her, calling out that it was good to have her back.</p>
<p>Finally, she arrived at the table she had gotten accustomed to sitting at over her month long training period. She had barely gotten there when Ryan stood up, pulling her into a warm hug.</p>
<p>“Yaz”, he said as he pulled back, holding onto her arms, a grin on his face. “It is <em> so </em> good to have you back!”</p>
<p>She sat down with them, receiving pats on the shoulders from both Rory and Clara, and a squeeze of her hand from Amy. </p>
<p>“I’ve got you something”, the redhead finally said, and she reached underneath her bench to pull out a small package. It was wrapped in brown paper, the one that merchants in the city used to wrap their goods in.</p>
<p>Yaz took it from her, curious to see what it was. As she pulled away the paper, two pieces of clothing fell into her lap: a shirt – similar to the one she had owned before the duel, but with more elaborate lacing running up the sides of the arms – and a soft pair of dark brown trousers.</p>
<p>“Amy”, she said, picking up the trousers and letting the soft material run through her fingers. “You didn’t have to –”</p>
<p>“Yes”, the other woman replied. “Yes I did. See it as my ‘sorry I almost killed you’ gift. It’s the least I owe you.”</p>
<p>Without another word, Yaz reached over and pulled Amy into a hug.</p>
<p>Yaz impatiently sat through dinner, her foot bouncing underneath the table the entire time. It was the last day of the month, which meant that the Lord Protector would join them after dinner in order to hand out shifts and special assignments for the following two weeks. Yaz desperately wanted to know when she would see the Princess again. The blonde had been on her mind throughout the whole week that Yaz had had to spend in bed, and she was pretty sure that she had even dreamt of her during her fever. It was a memory that made Yaz’s cheeks burn with embarrassment, especially the mortifying thought that in the little bit of her dream that she could remember, she had called the Crown Princess by her first name.</p>
<p>“Guards!”</p>
<p>Caught in her own thoughts, Yaz had missed the moment that Dame Commander Grace had entered the hall. She jumped to her feet, together with all the other knights in the room, hand on her heart in the old Gallifreyan greeting of someone who commanded respect.</p>
<p>“At ease.”</p>
<p>They all dropped their hands, and the knights around Yaz took up a more relaxed stance. Yaz however found herself suddenly tense, her arms hanging stiffly at her sides.</p>
<p>The Lord Protector went through all the regular guard duties at first, which felt like it was taking forever. Finally, after she gave out her commands to the King’s Guard – the knights charged with protecting Gallifrey’s ruler – the Lord Protector turned towards the other end of the room, her gaze catching Yaz’s.</p>
<p>“Dame Yasmin”, she began, and Yaz caught herself holding her breath, “it is good to have you back. Her Royal Highness will see you at first shift tomorrow morning, Ryan will show you the ropes.”</p>
<p>Next to Yaz, Ryan let out a low groan. He was decidedly not a morning person, as Yaz had already come to know. Unperturbed, Grace continued:</p>
<p>“You are to catch up on your training during the afternoons, Dame Yasmin, and starting the day after tomorrow, you will be Her Royal Highness’s Final Shield every first half of the night.”</p>
<p><em> Final Shield </em>.</p>
<p>Yaz felt her entire skin tingling as all of the eyes in the room landed on her. Final Shield meant that she was to be the sole soldier stationed in front of the Crown Princess’s room from dusk until the first hour of the day. If anyone would make it through the numerous protections around and inside the palace, she was the last knight to be standing between the heir to the throne and a potential attacker. It was a much higher honour than the regular guarding during the day.</p>
<p>“Dame Yasmin?”</p>
<p>Yaz realised with a start that she had not responded to the Lord Protector’s order. She quickly stood to attention once again, lifting her hand to her heart. “Yes, Lord Protector”, she replied, trying to keep her voice steady and firm.</p>
<p>She barely heard the rest of Grace’s orders. Her mind was racing – being called upon as Final Shield first thing on the job was so unusual that there was no doubt about it having been a request from the Crown Princess herself. The only question was if her colleagues were going to piece two and two together as well – which would certainly lead to trouble.</p>
<p>After Grace had left, most knights began bringing their empty bowls and mugs to the kitchen, chatting casually to each other about their assignments for the upcoming weeks. As Yaz grabbed her own bowl, Clara and Rory already on their way to the kitchen, she noticed that both Ryan and Amy were lingering, throwing glances her way.</p>
<p>“So”, Ryan said, letting out a low whistle. “Final Shield.”</p>
<p>“Yeah”, Yaz replied, placing her spoon into her bowl. “I’m as surprised as you guys.”</p>
<p>That, at least, wasn’t a lie, although she was sure that she would not get around bending the truth at least a little bit from here on out.</p>
<p>“You must have impressed the hell out of both the Lord Protector <em> and </em> Captain Albrek”, Amy said, grinning as she playfully punched Yaz’s arm. “Well done, you. Although I guess it is also partly due to me.”</p>
<p>Yaz raised an eyebrow, and Ryan snorted.</p>
<p>“What?” Amy exclaimed. “If I hadn’t almost killed you, you wouldn’t have been able to show off like you did. Talking about that, by the way...” She leaned over towards Yaz, a conspiratorial look on her face. “When are you gonna teach me that move?”</p>
<p>Yaz smiled. “Someday… maybe.”</p>
<p>Amy sighed. “Not fair.” The knight grabbed her mug from the table, and walked towards the kitchen. As Yaz turned to follow her, she caught Ryan looking at her. She saw the questions written all over his face the moment their eyes locked. She smiled at him, trying her best to look convincingly proud, and hurried towards the kitchen.</p>
<p>She should have known that Ryan, with all his knowledge of court proceedings, would be the first one to have his doubts. Yaz would have to work very hard from now on to convince him that there was, in fact, nothing going on at all.</p>
<p>When they said goodbye in the hallway a few moments later, she caught Ryan throwing her another look, but Yaz ignored it. She forced herself to go to bed straight away, pushing down the fear of Ryan somehow figuring out what was going on. How could he possibly come to the conclusion that Yaz and the Crown Princess knew each other? It was an impossible scenario, or at least she kept telling herself that over and over again until she drifted off to an uneasy sleep.</p>
<p>The next morning, she woke early, her heart beating loud and fast at the thought of the day ahead. She went and picked up her breakfast straight from the kitchen, then went back to her room before any of the others made it downstairs. Sitting on her bed, the plate of fruit in her hand, she barely managed to eat any of it. Her stomach felt like it was making constant somersaults in her belly – if it went on like this, Ryan would take one look at her in front of the Princess and <em> definitely </em> know that something was up.</p>
<p>She forced a couple more grapes down, then stood to put on her armour. As she clipped the small brooch onto the front of her cloak, she glanced at herself in the mirror.</p>
<p>A distorted memory flashed through her mind, of the brooch seemingly coming to life at night. Yaz shook her head, trying to regain her focus. Today, she was to protect the Princess. Today, she had to be sharp and ready at all times.</p>
<p>
  <em> “Juliannah.” </em>
</p>
<p>Her face reddened at the memory of her dream, and she groaned. But before she could dwell on her embarrassment any longer, the bell tower outside struck the hour, calling her to work. She was halfway out her door when her gaze fell upon the nearly untouched platter of breakfast fruit, and she grabbed an apple.</p>
<p>She met up with Ryan at the end of the hallway, who looked like he had definitely not slept enough. His hair was disheveled, and he was in the process of trying to free his cloak, which had gotten caught in his upper arm guard. He managed to extricate the delicate blue coth just as Yaz stepped up next to him. When he looked up, she wordlessly offered him the apple.</p>
<p>“By the stars”, he groaned. “You are amazing.”</p>
<p>They walked down the steps, Ryan making quick work of the apple, confirming Yaz’s suspicions that he had not woken up early enough to have breakfast. By the time they arrived in front of the doors leading into the inner palace, Ryan had devoured the fruit, core and all.</p>
<p>“That’s better”, he murmured, wiping his chin. As he slipped his gauntlet over his hand, he turned to Yaz, whose heart had begun beating progressively harder and faster as they had walked through the back corridors. “Basically, follow my lead. We’ll go to the Crown Princess’s chambers, where we will relieve the Second Final Shield of his duties. We will position ourselves to the left and right of the door, and wait for Her Royal Highness to exit her rooms. As I’ve been told, we are to accompany her to a meeting with His Majesty the King and Lady Sybill today. It will probably last all morning. We will be relieved after that, at noon. Ready?”</p>
<p>Yaz nodded, even though her head was swimming. She was torn between excitement at seeing the Princess again, and worry that Ryan would catch on. Yaz took a deep breath, and tried to reassure herself. This was her job now, and she would do it well.</p>
<p>They stepped through the doors and into the inner palace. Once again, Yaz was struck by the immediate loss of volume, as if the entire inner palace was hidden underneath a thick blanket that blocked out any and all loud sounds. Ryan guided her through a couple of rooms, and then up a flight of stairs and into a hallway. The layout was similar to the tower the guards slept in, except that here, there was only one single door in the entire hallway.</p>
<p>Yaz swallowed as she saw them: two large oak doors, adorned with beautiful carvings. There was one single knight standing in front of it, a shield lifted in front of his chest, and he turned towards them as soon as they began walking down the hallway.</p>
<p>“Daniel”, Ryan said, greeting the knight with a smile. “Quiet night?”</p>
<p>The man nodded. “The lady-in-waiting woke Her Royal Highness up about half an hour ago, so she’ll be out any moment now. Have a good shift.”</p>
<p>As instructed, Yaz positioned herself on one side of the door, opposite Ryan. They turned towards each other, both knights standing at attention. At this point, Yaz wondered if her fellow soldier was able to hear her heartbeats as they crashed against her ribs.</p>
<p>Finally, after it felt like an eternity had passed, the doors opened.</p>
<p>Yaz bowed deeply, catching a pair of brown boots, polished to a shine, out of the corner of her eye.</p>
<p>“Good morning.”</p>
<p>“Good morning, Your Royal Highness”, came the reply in unison.</p>
<p>The Princess wore a cream coloured shirt today, and a dark blue jacket with a standing collar over it. It hung open, but still hugged the Princess’s form. The sleeves were adorned with golden embroidery, as were the shoulders. Her hair was pulled back in a small half ponytail.</p>
<p>She looked stunning.</p>
<p>“Sir Ryan”, the Princess said, smiling. “I see you have been banished to morning duty again. I will have a word with the Lord Protector about whether or not we can’t make the afternoon happen for you in the next schedule.”</p>
<p>Ryan looked relieved, and gave a brief bow. “Thank you, Your Royal Highness.”</p>
<p>The Princess turned towards Yaz, and the young knight felt her breath catch in her throat.</p>
<p>“Dame Yasmin. Good to have you back.”</p>
<p>With a brief nod towards her, the Princess turned and walked away.</p>
<p>Instantly, Yaz felt disappointment wash over her, followed shortly thereafter by shame. Ryan motioned to her that she was to follow the Princess, and she quickly fell into step behind her.</p>
<p>What had she thought would happen? Minutes ago, she had been worried about Ryan realising that she and the Princess knew each other, shared a secret actually, and now she found herself utterly crushed by the fact that the Princess had treated her like she would any other knight.</p>
<p>She was so caught in her thoughts that she almost missed it. In front of her the Princess folded her hands behind her back as she walked, and stretched out two fingers towards Yaz. In between them, she held a folded piece of paper.</p>
<p>Yaz’s heart jumped into her throat as she threw a brief glance around her. They were alone in the corridor, and Ryan, walking ahead, wouldn’t be able to see.</p>
<p>She reached out, slowly, and gently took the piece of paper from the Princess’s hand. Yaz had two options: she could either read it now, while there were still just the three of them, or after her shift, alone in her room.</p>
<p>Yaz held her breath as she unfolded the paper as quickly and quietly as she could.<br/><br/></p>
<p>
  <em> Apologies for the distant demeanour, but it is necessary. We will talk tomorrow night, Yasmin. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I promise.</em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>She managed to hide the message away just as they rounded the corner, arriving at the breakfast room. As Ryan opened the door for the Princess, the blonde briefly looked over at Yaz, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod.</p>
<p>The Princess’s face lit up in a smile, and Yaz’s world turned bright again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading :) As always, I am super looking forward to reading your comments :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So, what you’re saying is, I have to throw a party.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The King looked like he had bitten into a sour fruit. He sat at the head of the table, the Crown Princess on his right, the Duchess of Olew on his left. Behind him stood two knights of the King's Guard, identifiable through the King's Symbol they wore on their cloaks, just like Yaz wore the Crown Princess's one. Just like Juliannah, the King had chosen a symbol animal when he had been officially declared Crown Prince of Gallifrey on his sixteenth birthday. His was the head of a lion, and they had added a crown to the symbol the day he had become King. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the first time Yaz had seen the ruler of Gallifrey in the flesh, and she had to admit that he looked just as imposing in real life as he did on his portraits. His crown barely managed to flatten his unruly grey hair, and a bushy pair of eyebrows dominated his face. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Lady Sybill had just spent the better part of an hour laying out in detail why the organisation of a royal ball, held at the Gallifreyan palace, was the best course of action in the current political climate. “It will force everyone to look their allies in the eye”, she had said. “And honestly Alastair, that’s what we all need right now. Reassurance. Also, a bit of good jest and alcohol will probably help as well. As much as I know you hate those things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first time she had called the King by his first name, Yasmin’s eyes had gone wide. Ryan had thrown her a look from the other side of the door, and she had quickly gotten her facial expression back in check. Still, the surprise persisted throughout the meeting, in which both the King and the Crown Princess treated Lady Sybill – or “Bill”, as they both called her – with the utmost familiarity. Something ugly had reared its head inside of Yaz when the two women had hugged upon seeing each other, but she had quickly pushed it down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She might be the keeper of the Princess’s secret, but that did not mean Yaz had the right to think about her in any other way than as her future Queen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Besides, Lady Sybill was happily married anyway – not that it mattered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Grandfather”, Juliannah said, “I think Bill is right. With Lord Koschei’s election, we need to make sure the Alliance remains strong. The best way to do that is to force him to come here and talk to the other leaders. And if he’s got anything planned already, we can try to catch a whiff of it right away.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We could also mention to the staff that they might want to… ask around a bit”, Lady Sybill interjected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess lifted an eyebrow as she turned her attention towards the Duchess, a playful smile on her lips. “Are you suggesting we employ my lady-in-waiting as a spy once again, your Grace?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lady Sybill grinned. “I mean, if she wouldn’t mind missing the big event, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Your Royal Highness</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I am sure she could have some </span>
  <em>
    <span>excellent</span>
  </em>
  <span> conversations with the Lord Master’s staff.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Crown Princess laughed. “She does have a habit of missing big moments, so I am sure she wouldn’t mind one more. Plus, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> the best interrogator in Gallifrey.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The King was starting to look slightly exasperated, caught between the two women by sitting at the head of the table. He rubbed his forehead, his prominent eyebrows furrowed. With a sigh, he lifted his head and looked over at his granddaughter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure you are okay with this?”, he asked, and Yaz sensed that there was another question hidden behind the one he had just voiced.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shadow passed over the Crown Princess’s face, but she nodded. “Yes, grandfather”, she spoke, and then, her eyes suddenly fixed on the table, she added quietly: “I will do what is expected of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something about the way the Crown Princess’s posture had changed so abruptly – her shoulders drawn up, her gaze averted, her hands fidgeting with the edge of the table – made Yaz feel cold all over. The playfulness that had filled the room only minutes earlier had disappeared without a trace, and even Lady Sybill suddenly looked worried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Juliannah”, the Duchess began, “you don’t have to –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Except I do”, the Princess replied, her voice quiet but firm. “And it cannot be changed, so we might as well get it over with. While we are still at peace, at least.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An uneasy silence filled the room, and Yaz had to concentrate in order to stand still and not end up giving her own concern for the Princess away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well”, the King finally said, although it was obvious to anyone in the room that whatever this situation was, it made him just as unhappy as it did his granddaughter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then”, the Princess said, standing up from the table, “it is decided. I assume three weeks is enough time for you to plan this ball, Bill? Assuming that you want to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The glimmer returned to the Duchess’s eyes, although there was a faint hint of worry still visible on her face. “Is there anybody else you would trust with this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nobody”, the Princess replied, a faint smile on her lips.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By lunchtime the following day, everything the Guard was talking about was the Royal Ball, to be held in three weeks time. The excited chatter that filled every room served as a good distraction for Yaz, who desperately needed to keep her thoughts away from her shift that night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you fink”, Ryan asked, his mouth full, “some of uf will be ftaffioned infide the ballroom?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That would be amazing”, Amy immediately chimed in, her eyes shining. “Perfect way to watch the action and silently judge all the nobles for their terrible fashion sense.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think that they would want guards standing around everywhere for an event that is clearly meant to show that the peace is still standing strong”, Rory said, as always the calmest thinker at the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still”, Clara interjected, “they would want </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> guards, at least at the doors. Plus they won’t leave the King or the Crown Princess without protection. Especially not with the new Lord Master attending as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz had quietly been listening up until this point. “The Lord Master is coming?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan nodded, taking a gulp of ale from his mug. “Invitation went out yesterday, his bird was the first back this morning, I hear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was fast”, Yaz muttered. Suddenly, the piece of beef on her plate that she had enjoyed up until now tasted dry. Could mages sense other mages? If the Lord Master </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>indeed a magic-user, him showing up at the palace might be a danger to the Crown Princess. Yaz hoped that there would indeed be guards stationed </span>
  <em>
    <span>everywhere</span>
  </em>
  <span> during the ball, and most of all, she wished to be one of them. She had to keep an eye on this man if she wanted to protect Juliannah.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Her Royal Highness</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she reminded herself sternly. It was bad enough that she acted familiar around the Crown Princess in her fever dreams, she didn’t have to do it in her waking thoughts as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought of the Princess made Yaz’s skin tingle as she was reminded of her duty later that day. She had kept the note the blonde had passed her the previous morning, stowed away in her pillow case where nobody would see it. As she had been trying to fall asleep, her thoughts had kept circling around the fact that she was quite literally resting her head on the Princess’s words. At some point, she had become so annoyed at her own thoughts that she had taken the pillow and pressed it against her face, muffling her embarrassed groan. Except then the note had been close to her lips, and she had ended up throwing the pillow across the room and sleeping entirely without it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After lunchtime, Rory and Ryan went back to work, whereas Clara, Amy and Yaz found their way out onto the training grounds. Amy had promised Yaz that she would teach her the step-on-sword move she had used during their duel, as another way of apologizing. Yaz kept insisting that it was alright, but she was also not going to pass on the opportunity of learning a new technique to better her fighting skills.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If only her brain wouldn’t constantly betray her by reminding her of tonight. Again and again, she found herself distracted, and the blunt edge of Amy’s sword kept striking her. When Yaz found herself on the floor after a particularly hard hit, she heard Captain Albrek call out towards them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Amelia”, he shouted over the clanging and screaming of the dusty training grounds, “stop beating up the Final Shield! She should have some fighting strength left in her when she goes on duty later.” He shot Yaz a disappointed look, and she felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. That was the good impression she had made at her duel gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s up with you today? Are you alright?”, Amy asked as she offered Yaz a hand, pulling her back up on her feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah”, Yaz replied, dusting off her cloak. “Just nervous about tonight. Being Final Shield and all, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah”, Amy replied, smiling as she patted Yaz’s shoulder. “You’ll be alright. You proved that at the duel. You know the Lord Protector wouldn’t have assigned you as Final Shield right away unless she believed you were ready.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz tried to smile in return, but her stomach was churning. Unlike Amy, she knew that it wasn’t her performance that had gotten her assigned to protecting the Princess at night. What if she indeed </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>ready? What if somebody came for the Princess, in the dead of night, and they would simply beat Yaz, like Amy just had, over and over again? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yaz?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy was beginning to look worried, and Yaz let out a long, shaky breath. Then, she straightened her back and squared her shoulders. When it had come to it, when it had really mattered, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> been able to beat Amy. The same energy that had fuelled her then would come to her again if she ever needed it. She had to believe that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You got this</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she told herself, wiping the dust from the ground off her forehead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lifting her sword, she looked Amy in the eye and nodded. “Let’s go again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was barely able to get any food down at dinner. Graham had served them freshly baked bread, cheese and dates – a meal Yaz would usually greatly enjoy, especially since he had plated her favorite kind of cheese. But she found her mouth too dry to swallow the bread, and could barely taste the sweetness of the dates. She nibbled on a piece of cheese for a while, and soon excused herself, lying about wanting to get ready before her shift.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She walked over into the armoury, and looked at the wall of shields. So far, she had not used one of them, as she had only been on duty together with Ryan. As Final Shield, however, she had been told that she was to keep one at the ready. Yaz understood what it was for – to block the way for any intruders, so the Princess could flee. Slowly, she let her right hand glide over the edges of the shields, one after the other, as she walked along the wall. When she arrived at the final one, she slipped her arm into the leather straps. Lifting out the shield, she took a moment to adjust to its weight on her forearm, then tightened the straps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a final, deep breath, she began her walk towards the Princess’s chambers. As she rounded into the corridor a few minutes later, she stopped in front of Ryan and Daniel, who stood guard in front of the large double door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am here to watch over the Crown Princess Juliannah of Gallifrey”, she began, trying to keep her voice firm as she spoke the ritual words that Ryan had taught her, “that she may rest safely. From now until the first hour of the day, I will not leave my post. My life for hers, should the need arise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan and Daniel turned towards her as she positioned herself in front of the doors. Unlike them, she stood in the middle of the double door, the two doors meeting behind her back. They stood to attention, and placed their sword hands over their hearts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May your shield hold strong”, the two men answered in unison, and Yaz lifted her shield up in front of her chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stood for a moment, then the two male knights dropped their hands, and began their walk down the hallway. As he was passing her, Ryan smiled. Throwing Daniel a brief glance, making sure the other guard wasn’t looking their way, he lifted his hand in a thumbs up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got this”, he mouthed silently, and then the two men were gone, and Yaz was alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so, the hours began ticking by. At first, Yaz wondered if she should just knock on the door  – let the Princess know that she was here, ready to have that talk. But she dismissed the idea quickly. What if the woman had already fallen asleep? What if she wasn’t even inside the room right now, but out in the City or somewhere else, doing the stars knew what with her magic. The thought of the Princess out in the night, alone, made Yaz shudder. This time, she wouldn’t be there to help.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pushed the thought down, assuring herself that the Princess had probably simply fallen asleep before Yaz had gotten to her room. Forcing herself to stand still, she pricked up her ears at a shuffling noise coming from the other end of the hallway. The hand behind her shield tightened into a fist reflexively, and she grabbed the hilt of her sword with the other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment later, an older maid appeared around the corner, carrying fresh candles and a matchstick. She set to replacing the ones in the candelabras, positioned on small ornate tables all along the wall opposite Yaz, in between the windows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman gave a brief bow as she passed Yaz, then went on with her work. Just as she disappeared around the corner, the bell tower rang twelve times.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Behind Yaz’s back, there was a small clicking noise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz spun around, her hand on her sword once more, her heart beating in her throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No reason to worry, Dame Yasmin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the door, now open, stood the Princess, a smile on her face so warm that it made Yaz feel like her entire body had been transformed into liquid. She felt her own hand relax and let go of her sword, and then her eyes fell upon the Princess’s shoulders. They were covered by a dark red cloth, all too familiar to Yaz.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was her old City Guard cloak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, should we go for a walk?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*starts dialling up the yearning levels* Let's go lesbians, let's go!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! Here's another update for you – and they actually talk in this one!! ;D Just maybe not the talk you were expecting...</p>
<p>That's right, it's time for flashback part 2 :D</p>
<p>Hope you guys enjoy :))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Two and a half months prior<br/>
</strong>
</p>
<p>Juliannah could hear a distant, persistent clicking noise. As she began wriggling her limbs, consciousness returning to her, the first thing she felt was confusion, along with a dull pounding in her head. Why was Caladrius knocking on her window? She had already gone out for tonight, she remembered flying with him. Letting out a low grumble, she reached for her blanket, and pulled it up to her chin, then immediately huffed as she pushed it back down. For some reason, it was very scratchy. Come to think of it, her bed didn’t feel as soft as usual either. And if Cal could just –</p>
<p>With a jolt, she ripped open her eyes.</p>
<p>She <em> had </em> already gone out to the village. She had, however, never made it back to the palace.</p>
<p>Juliannah blinked, trying to adjust to the dim light of the room she was in. There was a small bookshelf opposite the bed, and a little jug of water on a table in the corner, with a glass standing next to it. Juliannah’s head was still hurting, and she turned it slowly, trying to see the rest of the room.</p>
<p>Next to the door sat a woman, clad in the simple armour of a City Guard, her chin resting on the pommel of an unsheathed sword. Both hands were holding on to its hilt, and one of her fingers was tapping against the metal, creating the clicking noise that had woken Juliannah from her sleep.</p>
<p>No, not sleep.</p>
<p>With a rush, her memories came back to her: she had depleted her energy and fallen unconscious, right in front of this guard. Which meant that the illusion she had spun around herself was probably gone.</p>
<p>There had to be a mirror somewhere. Without thinking, she threw her covers to the side, and sat up. She immediately regretted the decision as the pounding between her eyes intensified, causing her to screw them shut.</p>
<p>“You’re awake!”</p>
<p>The urgent whisper came from the door, and Juliannah squinted, watching as the guard quickly leaned her sword against the chair and hurried towards her. “You shouldn’t sit up yet”, the woman said as she held onto Juliannah’s arms, steadying her. A second later, as if she had burned her hands, the guard let go again, her eyes widening as she took a step back. “I’m sorry”, she mumbled. “I shouldn’t – I’m probably not allowed – I –”</p>
<p>Juliannah blinked, and the guard seemed to regain her wits. Straightening her back, the young soldier pressed the base of her feet together, her hands stiffly at her sides. Then, she bowed down deeply. “Your Royal Highness.”</p>
<p>Well, that rendered the use of a mirror unnecessary.</p>
<p>“Please”, Juliannah said weakly. “You don’t have to do that.”</p>
<p>The guard stood up straight, but her gaze kept trailing awkwardly over the floor. After a moment, she seemed to remember something, and she turned around grabbing the glass of water from the table. Juliannah leaned back, still feeling a little bit dizzy, and rested her head against the wall behind. She took the offered glass with quiet thanks, closing her eyes as the cold liquid hit her lips. When she opened them again, the woman was still standing in front of her, avoiding her eyes. She must have had a million questions, and Juliannah was very grateful for the fact that she currently wasn’t asking any of them. </p>
<p>One thing she was sure of was that she was currently not in a prison. Neither did this look anything like the soldiers’ barracks she had visited a couple of years ago, officially opening them after they had been renovated. No, this was a personal room.</p>
<p>“You didn’t turn me in.” It was a statement much more than a question, and still, Juliannah awaited the guard’s reaction with tension. The woman simply shook her head, and Juliannah felt herself relax a little. “Why?”</p>
<p>For a brief moment, the guard looked up, her eyes meeting Juliannah’s. They were kind eyes, Juliannah noted, a deep, warm brown. </p>
<p>“I –”, the guard started, then stopped herself, nervously rubbing her palm with her thumb. “I’m not sure”, the soldier finally said, a sheepish look on her face. “You fainted right into my arms and –”</p>
<p>Caladrius would have a field day with this. </p>
<p>“– I just… it felt like you needed my protection. My shift was almost over, so I brought you here.”</p>
<p>“Your house?”</p>
<p>“Yes. Well”, the guard replied, rubbing the back of her neck, “my parents’. They don’t know you’re here – I figured you didn’t want to pull any attention to yourself.”</p>
<p>“Ah”, Juliannah replied. “Hence the whispering.”</p>
<p>The guard nodded, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks. Juliannah thought it looked endearing.</p>
<p>“Well”, she said, “It sounds like I am very much in your debt, guardswoman…?”</p>
<p>“Yasmin.”</p>
<p>“Yasmin.” It was a beautiful name, and Juliannah found that it fit the woman well. Without thinking, she heard herself reply. “I am Juliannah.”</p>
<p>Finally, Yasmin lifted her head, her eyes meeting Juliannah’s. She looked completely perplexed at having been offered a first name, and now Juliannah felt her own cheeks redden, followed by the sudden urge to closely inspect the blanket that was still draped over her lower body.</p>
<p>“It’s not much”, she heard Yasmin say, “but I wanted to make sure you were warm, Your Royal Highness.” </p>
<p>“No, no!” Juliannah quickly replied. “It’s perfect.” She felt a bit silly – of course the woman didn’t just suddenly call her by her first name, even if it was offered. It was against every part of protocol, no matter the unorthodox situation they found themselves in. Half her mind was still in the village, where people would hug her, laugh with her. They treated her with respect, even reverence, but not like she was an untouchable alien.</p>
<p>Juliannah forced her attention to return to her current situation. Her headache had finally subsided, and she slowly felt herself become able to think clearly once again. When she reached out for her magic, there was a fresh spark of energy. She let out a breath of relief.</p>
<p>“How long was I asleep?” she asked. “Also, you really don’t have to keep standing there. You can sit.”</p>
<p>“About four hours, Your Royal Highness”, Yasmin replied as she grabbed the chair next to the door, as well as her sword, and brought both of them over. She eyed the space between herself and the bed, no doubt trying to judge what was appropriate and what wasn’t. Finally, she decided on a meter between them, and sat down. “You were out cold from the moment you fainted.”</p>
<p>Juliannah frowned. “How did you get me here?”</p>
<p>Yasmin fiddled with the pommel of her sword. “I carried you, Princess.”</p>
<p>Juliannah suddenly felt very warm, and she pushed the covers away. “Ah”, she replied, unsure why she found herself unable to look the guardswoman in the eye. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>An awkward silence settled between them as Juliannah calculated the time in her head. Four hours. That meant she had about two hours before her lady-in-waiting would waltz into her room to wake her up, and raise the alarm if she wasn’t lying in her bed. She had to find a way to get back. </p>
<p>“I need to return to the palace.”</p>
<p>“I can help.”</p>
<p>Juliannah looked up, surprised. “I couldn’t possibly ask you to take any more risks than you already have.”</p>
<p>Yasmin shook her head. “With all due respect, Your Royal Highness. I might not know why you were out of the palace at night, but I do know that I can’t let you go back out on the streets without protection. It would be reckless.”</p>
<p>The look in the woman’s eyes was sincere and determined, and Juliannah felt a strange twinge in her chest.  She thought about the guard helping her get through the city, and to the gate on the other side. She was still feeling weak, albeit a lot less so than before. Still, if she went out on her own, the risk of getting caught was considerably higher than if she was in the company of a City Guard.</p>
<p>Finally, she nodded. Yasmin’s face lit up, and she immediately jumped out of her chair. </p>
<p>They slipped out of Yasmin’s room a few minutes later, and down the stairs as quietly as possible. As they stepped out onto the dark street, Juliannah felt a slight shiver run down her spine. The magic she had spun around herself before had had the nice side effect of keeping her warm. That was no longer the case, and her cloak was too light to help.</p>
<p>Next to her, Yasmin unclipped the red cloak that every guard wore, and held it out towards her. “Here, Princess”, she whispered. “My armour keeps me warm enough.”</p>
<p>Under normal circumstances, Juliannah would have objected, but she was still exhausted and the thought of an extra layer sounded exquisite. She took the cloak, and wrapped it around herself. It was soft and warm, and smelled of jasmine tea.</p>
<p>“You should draw your hood, Your Royal Highness”, Yasmin said, one hand on her sword. “If we meet anyone, I will tell them that you are my cousin, and I am escorting you home.”</p>
<p>Juliannah nodded, and pulled her hood over her head. “What about the guards at the gate?” she asked. A thought flashed through her mind, and she turned towards Yasmin, frowning. “How <em> did </em> you get me through the other gate? You said your shift was <em> almost </em> over.”</p>
<p>“Well”, Yasmin began. “First, I carried you inside, and when my colleague arrived at the gate, I called out to him, and told him…” she stopped for a moment, clearing her throat. “I told him I had monthly issues. He was too mortified to even look in my direction after that.”</p>
<p>Juliannah stared at Yasmin for a moment, then felt a laugh bubble up in her chest. “Oh dear”, she chuckled. “Well played, Guardswoman Yasmin.”</p>
<p>“Thank you”, Yasmin replied, an impish grin on her lips.</p>
<p>They walked through the streets of the city together, hiding in plain sight. The whole time, Yasmin kept her hand on her sword, glancing into every alleyway before she allowed Juliannah to follow.</p>
<p><em> She would make a fine Royal Guard </em>, Juliannah thought as she watched her.</p>
<p>They arrived at the Northern Gate forty five minutes later, hidden from the guards’ view in a side alley. Juliannah turned towards Yaz, her eyebrows raised. “What now?”</p>
<p>“I will distract the inner guardsman”, Yasmin said, glancing around the corner towards the gate. “Tell him I went on a nightwalk, and saw some suspicious activity around the corner. He’ll come with me, which should give you enough time to unlock the door and get through. You’ll have to hide from the guard on the wall once you are on the other side.”</p>
<p>“That won’t be a problem”, Juliannah replied. She had recuperated enough magic to cloak herself from there on out.</p>
<p>She caught Yasmin stare at her hands, no doubt remembering the golden shimmer that had been around them hours ago. “You’ll be using…” the soldier started.</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>They had avoided the topic until now. Juliannah suddenly became painfully aware of the kind of power the woman had over her. Even if the authorities wouldn’t believe a simple guardswoman enough to come after the Crown Princess herself, a well-timed rumour could still end up becoming her undoing. Juliannah was mulling over what she could tell Yasmin, how she could ask of her to keep a secret so big that the peace of four nations depended on it. A thought crossed her mind – a horrible one, but one that she would have to follow through if she wanted to keep her people safe.</p>
<p>She would have to use her magic to wipe Yasmin’s mind.</p>
<p>Without warning, Juliannah reached out, her hands touching Yasmin’s temples. She forced herself to look up, and suddenly, her breath caught in her throat as her gaze locked with Yasmin’s. The woman’s eyes were wide, and she did not move.</p>
<p>For a moment, Juliannah lost herself in those deep brown eyes. They were the eyes of a truly kind person.</p>
<p>There was never a safe way to wipe another person’s mind – Caladrius had told her that, over and over again. This woman had undoubtedly saved her life, and Juliannah was about to do something to her that would risk her forgetting her own family, or even herself. There was a small chance that changing Yasmin’s memory would even end up driving her mad.</p>
<p>“I will protect your secret, Princess.”</p>
<p>Yasmin’s voice was quiet, earnest, strong. Without noticing, Juliannah’s hands had slipped down from the other woman’s temples, and onto her cheeks instead.</p>
<p>A heartbeat passed, then two, and finally she let go.</p>
<p>“Thank you”, she heard herself say, and Yasmin once again bowed down deeply.</p>
<p>“Your Royal Highness.”</p>
<p>A moment later, the guard had disappeared around the corner, gone to distract her fellow soldier, so Juliannah could pass. Juliannah was left standing in the alleyway on her own, staring down at her hands that had betrayed her by moving out of their own accord. There was a strange mix of fear and warmth blossoming in her chest, but she pushed them away and instead made her way to the Northern Gate. She had no time to lose.</p>
<p>When Juliannah stepped into her room half an hour later – she had climbed in through her window cloaked in shadows, sneaking past the Royal Guards downstairs – she realised that she was still wearing Yasmin’s cloak. She pulled it off her shoulders, and held it in her hands for a moment, resisting the urge to press it against her nose, inhaling the smell of jasmine tea. Instead, she carefully folded it, and hid it underneath the floorboard, together with her own cloak.</p>
<p>Her lady-in-waiting arrived that morning to a Crown Princess already fully dressed, sitting at her desk and asking to see the Lord Protector.</p>
<p>“Dame Commander Grace”, Juliannah said as the woman stepped into her room, bowing towards her. “I feel the Royal Guard should send out another call for recruits.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And now you know how these two met :D I've been super excited to finally get this chapter to you. I hope you enjoyed it and as always I am extremely looking forward to hearing your thoughts on it all :))</p>
<p>See you next chapter :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In this one, we have a midnight walk, a conversation, and a *lot* of yearning. Hope you guys enjoy :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You kept it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz stood in the corridor, staring wide-eyed at the Princess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did”, the blonde replied softly, and Yaz noticed that her right hand was fidgeting with the side of the cloak. There was the faintest hint of a blush on her face, and it made Yaz’s chest warm up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took her a moment to realise the situation she was in, and remember the appropriate protocol that came with it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry”, she said, and quickly changed her stance, bowing. “Your Royal Highness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was movement in front of her, and then a hand was gently placed on Yaz’s arm. She looked up, slowly, and found the Princess smiling, almost sadly. Whatever it was that was causing the sadness, Yaz found that she wanted to fight it all away for her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please”, the Princess said, “you really don’t have to do that right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was standing close to Yaz, her hand still resting on Yaz’s upper arm guard. Her eyes, green with golden specks, searched Yasmin’s, a silent plea in them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, Yaz’s mind was transported back in time, and she remembered what it had felt like to hold the other woman close, to carry her across town in her arms. Her breath hitched in her throat as she could almost feel the blonde’s small body again as it had been pressed against her chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz was overcome with the overwhelming urge to surge forward and envelop the Princess’s lips with her own. There was a longing in her chest as she stood there, staring into those eyes, that was so strong it almost made her unable to breathe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before she could do anything irreversible, she took a quick step back, breaking the connection. “You said you wanted to go for a walk, Princess?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If there was the slightest hint of disappointment shining through in the Princess’s eyes, Yaz chose not to see. It was only her heart-shaped brain trying to get the best of her, and she was determined not to let it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. This way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess led her down the corridor, around the corner, and through a small, inconspicuous door. As they stepped through it, they were clearly in one of the back corridors used by the staff, as now the space around them was made out of simple wooden panelling, and there was no delicate carpet underneath their feet, nor ornate tapestries on the walls. They walked down that hallway, and then through another door, and Yaz was beginning to wonder where the Princess was leading her. After they had gone down a staircase, the blonde finally stopped in front of another door, and turned around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everyone is always so preoccupied with not letting anybody </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, she whispered, a mischievous smile on her face, “that nobody ever seems to worry about me getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>out</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, she pushed open the door, stepping aside to let Yaz have a clear view.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And what a view it was. Yaz was looking straight onto the inner palace gardens, the ones that were forbidden to anyone but the Royal Family and invited guests. A small pathway stretched away from the door, flowers blooming left and right. She could see that it joined with a broader path a little farther down, this one being paved by grey stones, all in different shapes and sizes, arranged to form a beautiful mosaic underneath people’s feet. Torches were lit here and there, illuminating trees hung with rich fruit, and lilies in all shapes and colours. In the distance, Yaz saw a small gazebo in the middle of the gardens.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s beautiful”, she breathed, transfixed by what she was seeing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s my favorite spot”, the Princess said. “This is the entrance that staff use to tend to the garden. I use it whenever I need a bit of peace and quiet without anyone knowing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet another secret they were to share – except this one the Princes had shared with her willingly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess walked through the door, and Yaz quickly fell into step behind her. She watched as the red cloak swayed gently against the blonde’s back, remembering how she had offered it to her that night. They walked past some rose bushes, and up to a tree, where the Princess stood on her toes to pluck a fruit from its branches. Yaz wondered for a moment if she should help, but was unsure about the appropriate distance she was supposed to keep in this unusual situation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know”, the Princess said as she turned towards Yaz, an orange fruit in her hands, “you really don’t have to keep walking behind me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s cheeks warmed, wondering for a brief moment if the blonde had somehow heard her thoughts. She still did not know anything about how the Princess’s magic worked, or what she could do with it. For now, Yaz did not exclude mind-reading – which immediately sent a jolt through her as she remembered her thoughts earlier, when the Princess had touched her arm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry”, the Princess said suddenly, her brow furrowed as she slipped the orange into a pouch she was carrying around her waist. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no!”, Yaz immediately exclaimed, reaching out towards the Princess in a reflexive attempt to assure the other woman. She stopped herself just in time, her hand hovering awkwardly in the air between them. “You didn’t”, she finished, pulling back her hand and letting her arm drop. It felt too long all of a sudden, and way too dangly. What did she usually do with her arms? At least her left one was busy carrying the shield.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess looked relieved at Yaz’s response. She smiled, reaching up to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and Yaz remembered its softness between her fingers as she had gently pushed it out of the blonde’s face before draping her blanket over her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking to her right, the Princess motioned for Yaz to come with her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Falling into step next to the Princess was a strange feeling. They walked side by side, as if they were equals, even though there was so much that divided them. The Princess had been born to rule, with secret magic running through her blood, and Yaz was the daughter of a simple merchant. Yet here was the Princess, talking to her like none of it really mattered. It made Yaz’s head swirl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yasmin”, the blonde said as they entered a path surrounded by branches that had been made to grow into an arcade above their heads. Here and there, the stars shone through, illuminating the white flowers that bloomed all around them. “I promised you we would talk. I meant it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling dry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Princess. I said I would keep your secret, and that will not change.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess stopped, looking up to catch a glimpse of the moon through the branches. The light hit her face, giving her skin a soft silvery glow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I want to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She said it quietly, softly, earnestly. Yaz could feel it, the faintest of cracks running through her own resolve as she stood there, looking at Juliannah’s face in the moonlight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The word had left her mouth before she could think otherwise, and she was rewarded with a smile lifting the corners of the Princess’s lips as she turned her head towards her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then ask me things, Yasmin. Please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stood in silence, a million thoughts running through Yaz’s head. What should she ask? What </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> she ask? After a moment, as if sensing Yaz’s insecurity, Juliannah turned, and they began walking again. Yaz was grateful for the movement, and she used it to ponder the questions she most wanted to hear the answers to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How does it work?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm”, Juliannah said, letting her hand graze over the branches as they walked. “It’s like… a light inside of me, running through me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like blood?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could make that comparison, yes. Except with my magic, I can direct it. I can tell it where to flow, what to do. But every time I use it, the light gets a little dimmer, and it only replenishes with time spent resting. If I spend too much energy at once, well… you have seen the consequences of that, Yasmin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz remembered how the Princess had fallen into her arms, looking like she was in severe pain moments earlier. “It looked like it hurt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah scrunched up her face, letting out a small groan. “Yes. When you cast a spell on yourself, it takes a little bit of energy to remove it, too. If you don’t, it will break as your energy runs out, which can be rather painful. I assume you have learned to shoot a bow?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz frowned. “I have.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you ever accidentally snapped the string against your arm? Maybe when you were just starting out, and you couldn’t quite hold the tension yet. The string slips over your fingertips, and it slaps against your arm, the arrow flying wide.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz nodded. This had happened to her many times when she had first trained with a bow, and she pulled a face at the memory of bruises, and once even a slash across her arm. She had quickly learned to always wear bracers after that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what it feels like. You can’t quite hold on anymore, and then it snaps against you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They walked out of the arcade, back into the full starlight, and Yaz blinked for a moment. Juliannah turned towards a marble bench that stood only a few steps away, and Yaz followed her. When the blonde sat down, pulling the orange and a small knife out of her pouch, Yaz was once again unsure what she should do, standing awkwardly next to the bench.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, deciding to throw caution – and decorum – to the wind, she flipped her cloak over the bench, sitting down herself. She left what she hoped was a decent amount of space between her and the Princess, and set to unclasp her shield, laying it across her lap in a way that she could quickly pick it up again should the need arise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah began peeling the orange, and Yaz weighed what her next question should be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What were you doing that night?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, Yaz was sure she had overstepped, as the Princess slowly dropped her knife, staring at the now peeled orange in her hands. She was about to apologise, but then the Princess began to speak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was healing the farmers outside the city.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That wasn’t what Yaz had expected. Her mind immediately flashed back to her fever dream vision of Juliannah – it couldn’t possibly have actually happened, could it? Yaz quickly dismissed the thought. There was no way the Princess would have come into Yaz’s private chamber to heal her wounds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How come?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, the Princess began pulling the orange apart. “Before the war, every village used to have its own Healer. When the Alliance outlawed magic after all the terrible acts the War Mages had committed, those Healers had to have their powers bound just like everyone else. Except that they used to work for free, standing entirely in the service of the farmers and workers they attended to. Now the Healers are gone, but the people in the villages don’t have the means to pay for medical care. I realised I couldn’t help everyone, but if there was even a small group of people whose life I could make easier by offering my services… It’s worth the risk, to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz felt warmth and admiration blossom inside her chest at the Princess’s words. “You are very kind, Princess”, she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah shrugged, seemingly a bit embarrassed at the sudden compliment. Wordlessly, she held a slice of orange out towards Yasmin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah”, Yaz began, looking down at her heavy gauntlets. “These weren’t exactly made for picking up small things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can take them off, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz froze. “But that’s against protocol.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yasmin”, the Princess said, smiling wryly. “Which part of this right now is not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz had to concede to that. Carefully, she pulled one gauntlet off her hand, then another, and took the slice of fruit from Juliannah. She looked it over, studying the white threads that ran over the flesh. After a moment, she noticed that the Princess was watching her, and she quickly lifted the fruit and bit into it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was deliciously sweet juice running over her lips a moment later, and Yaz quickly pushed the rest of the fruit into her mouth in surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the corner of her eye, she saw the Princess’s eyes widen. “You’ve never had one of these, have you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz felt a flush run up her neck, and she shook her head as she swallowed. “No, Princess. They don’t really grow them outside the palace, I think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you like it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz smiled, licking the juice off her lips. “Yes”, she replied. “Yes, I do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess stared at her for a moment, and Yaz felt a bit embarrassed at her own manners. She should probably have used a handkerchief or something of the sort. But then the Princess seemed to shake herself out of it, and handed her another piece. “Well then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz bit into it, careful this time not to let the juice get away from her. As she swallowed the sweet fruit, she thought of what to ask next.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Healing”, she began, her eyes roaming over the red gardenias that bloomed across from them. “But you can do other things too, right? Like that thing you did with your face. Or the opening of the gate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Basically, every mage can learn any kind of magic – especially the basic spells. But there is usually a sort of... predisposition towards one school of magic. You can tell by the colour of the magic. Mine, as you know, is golden, which means that I will always have an easier time performing healing magic, compared to other kinds.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like war magic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess’s face hardened at the question. “I will never use that kind of magic”, she replied quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course”, Yaz quickly said, “I didn’t mean to imply –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay”, the Princess replied, her expression softening. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just… a difficult topic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz knew that she should not prod any further in this direction, but before she could change the topic, the belltower rang in the distance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah”, the Princess said. “I think we’ll have to continue this tomorrow. I have to get back before one of your colleagues raises the alarm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz tried her best to hide her disappointment. She wanted to keep sitting here, in this garden, far away from everything, and just talk to the Princess until the sun broke through above them. On the other hand, the implication that they would be sitting here again tomorrow night made Yaz’s heart beat so hard she thought it might crack one of her ribs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So she picked up her shield and accompanied the blonde back through the corridors, until they stood in front of her room once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One more question”, she heard herself say before she could stop herself. It was the one that had been burning on her tongue ever since that night, and she knew she could not wait another day to hear the answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah turned towards her, eyebrows raised. “I suppose we have time for one more tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who knows?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess froze, her shoulders tensing up as she looked straight into Yaz’s eyes. There was a moment where it seemed like she was weighing how much she could tell Yaz, and the knight was readying herself to receive a first refusal from her future Queen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then the blonde opened her mouth, and the answer came, so quiet that it was almost inaudible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s blood was rushing through her ears, her pulse drumming so loudly it was almost dizzying. Suddenly, she understood. Juliannah’s eyes were filled with sadness and the weight of being the last one left of what had once been generations of mages, having to keep her powers a secret from everyone in her life for the stars knew how long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To hell with decorum. All Yaz wanted to do was step towards Juliannah, and pull her into an embrace, keeping her warm and safe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I –” she began, reaching out towards the other woman, but in that moment, a door opened in the distance, and footsteps began echoing down the hallway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to go”, Juliannah breathed, and quickly turned around. Before Yaz could say or do anything, the door closed with a soft click, and the Princess was gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pulling herself out of her stupor, Yaz quickly swivelled around, and she lifted her shield in front of her chest just as her colleague rounded the corner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am here to take over watch over the Crown Princess Juliannah of Gallifrey”, the knight began, but Yaz could barely hear him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May your shield hold strong”, she murmured as he finished, but there was only one sentence that she kept hearing in her mind, over and over again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I am the only one who knows</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you as always for reading! If you liked it, please consider leaving a comment :)</p>
<p>Oh, and bonus points to whomever catches the Carol reference ;D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>More yearning, and some revelations! Hope you guys enjoy :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Yaz? Yaz!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz was ripped out of her daydreams by Amy gently shaking her shoulder. They had sat down for lunch twenty minutes earlier, but Yaz’s thoughts had immediately gone on their own little voyage, as they had done so often over the past week.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Ryan asked. He looked worried, and Yaz quickly wanted to calm him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine”, she said, picking up her spoon and dunking it into the bowl of stew in front of her. “Just uh… my rhythm is a bit thrown off by working through the first half of the night. I’ll get used to it though, I’m sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She busied herself by shoving food into her mouth, trying to ignore Ryan’s looks. She was having more and more trouble staying in the moment. Every day this week, Yaz had woken up, and her first thought had been about Juliannah, and the blonde was all that was on her mind for the entire day after, until she would see her again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a week now, Yaz had spent one hour each night in the company of the Princess, walking through the gardens and talking. They had gotten into a routine: Yaz would station herself in front of Juliannah’s room for about 4 hours. Then, just after the maid replaced the candles in the hallway, the Princess would come out of her room, and they would steal out into the garden. With every walk, the two women had become more at ease, asking each other questions, talking about everything and anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every night, the Princess wore Yaz’s old cloak, and every night, Yaz’s heart beat a little faster when she saw her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’m sure you’ll get some rest on your next schedule”, Amy said. “They rarely have someone be Final Shield for longer than two weeks in a row.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They don’t?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz knew that her question had come too quickly, but she couldn’t stop herself. Being Final Shield was the only way she actually could spend time with the Princess, and the thought of being assigned to other duties for two full weeks made her stomach churn. She knew that it would probably do her good to have some space. Yaz was fully aware that the way her heart sped up every time the Princess opened those doors forebode nothing good – the more she spent time with her, the more Yaz forgot who they both were. And yet, Yaz couldn’t stop herself. She wanted nothing more in the world than to be around Juliannah, to see her smile and be the reason for it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. They usually rotate them, two weeks on shield duty, two weeks on a different one. That way, everybody gets to sleep through some nights.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Makes sense.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the entryway to the kitchens, Graham rang the bell, signalling the end of their break.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh come on”, Ryan grumbled. “I haven’t even gotten dessert yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The knights around Yaz stood up one by one, picking up their bowls to bring them over to the kitchen. With a start, Yaz realised that she had barely touched her stew, and she began quickly shovelling the food into her mouth, breaking off a piece of bread from the loaf in the middle of the table before Clara could pick it up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t choke on that”, Clara laughed. “Next time, you better eat instead of daydreaming.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s probably about that lady from home that she won’t tell me about”, Amy joked from a few steps away, and Yaz began to cough violently as the piece of bread she had just swallowed briefly got stuck in her throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oooh”, Clara grinned as Yaz caught her breath. “I see.” With a wink, the brunette turned away, and Yaz’s cheeks warmed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Yaz had emptied her bowl and hurried towards the kitchen, the other knights had already left the hall, going off to attend to their various tasks. Graham had taken the platters with empty bowls into the kitchen, leaving Yaz with nothing to place hers on. Tentatively, she started to push open the door to the kitchen, but stopped dead in her tracks when she heard a voice inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are a lifesaver, Graham O’Brien.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s view was partially obstructed by the still half closed door, but she caught a glimpse of a golden armguard. The Lord Protector sat at Graham’s workbench, a plate with food in front of her. It smelled different than what the knights had had for lunch – there was a hint of chicken in the air, and of red wine that had been simmered down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know how much you love this recipe, Grace.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s eyes widened. She had never heard anyone simply call the Lord Protector by her first name – even the Royal Family called her Dame Commander.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To her surprise, there were no chastising words. Instead, Yaz heard a soft chuckle, and she saw the Lord Protector’s hand move across the workbench to cover Graham’s. Holding her breath, she slowly walked backwards, away from the door, trying her best to remain quiet and hidden. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stood inside the dining hall for a moment, still holding on to her empty bowl, her mind racing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz had gotten it wrong the first time she had met Graham. Yes, his heart was beating for someone above his station. But Yaz had falsely assumed that that other heart did not feel the same way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And in that moment, as she stood in the middle of the dining hall, Grace and Graham’s soft laughter wafting in through the door, without Yaz noticing it the most dangerous thing in the world took root in her own heart:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hope.<br/><br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---<br/><br/><br/><br/></span>
  <span>That night, as Yaz stood in front of the Princess’s room, she heard the telltale click of the opening doors the moment the other guards had disappeared around the corner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yasmin?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning around, Yaz saw the Princess’s head stick out from the door that was slightly ajar. The blonde’s jerkin was unbuttoned at the top, and Yaz quickly dropped her head into a bow, averting her gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Royal Highness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you mind coming in? I want to show you something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz blinked. In the week that she and the Princess had gone out on their nightly walks, she had never seen the other woman’s room. In fact, every guard knew that it was very much off limits unless there was a concrete threat inside. The only people allowed inside the Crown Princess’s private quarters were her lady-in-waiting – the Countess of Noble, the two chamberers, as well as explicitly invited members of nobility and high ranking officials, and of course the King.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s heart was pounding as she stepped through the doors. She found herself in a sort of ante-chamber, with a door leading off to the right. The chamber was relatively plain, with a small table and a few chairs. It was clearly meant as a sort of waiting room, and was neatly kept. Yaz stood in the middle of it, eyeing the open door that no doubt led to the Princess’s bedroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking a deep breath, she walked towards it. Inside, the image couldn’t have been any more different to the one that had presented itself in the ante-chamber.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess’s room was an absolute mess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every surface was either covered by books, or by strange apparatuses. The four-poster bed that stood on the other end of the room was the only thing that emanated a slight sense of order, neatly made as it was. Yaz had the distinct feeling that the chamberers’ sanity hung by the thinnest thread of that duvet. There was a desk next to the door, where Yaz stood, and bookshelves covered the walls top to bottom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess stood next to one of the windows, awkwardly scratching the back of her head as she watched Yaz’s eyes drift over the warzone that was her room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I uhm”, she began. “Keeping things in order was never really my forte.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess looked so endearing, standing in the middle of this chaos of her own creation, a slight blush on her cheeks, and Yaz felt a laugh bubble up in her chest, breaking out of her before she could stop it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pressed a hand in front of her mouth. “I’m so sorry”, she quickly said, mortified at her own reaction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To her surprise, the Princess began to laugh herself. “No no”, she chuckled. “Please don’t be sorry. It’s good to see someone laugh about this for once. I feel like my chamberers contemplate committing High Treason every time they walk in here, and I’m sure Donna comes this close” – she lifted her hand, showing a barely existent space between her thumb and forefinger – “to throwing my alchemy sets at me whenever I manage to blow something up again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Alchemy sets</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Now that the Princess had said it, Yaz realised that that’s what the strange apparatuses were. They were strewn all over the room, together with little glass vials, and satchels filled with the stars knew what. Yaz had only seen an alchemy set once, when she had visited her uncle in Arcadia. He had told her that the Alliance had debated prohibiting the use of Alchemy as well, seeing it as a sort of gateway to magic, but had ultimately not gone through with it. Still, Yaz knew many people that were suspicious of the science that was so mysterious and unknown to most.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway”, Juliannah said, taking a deep breath. Yaz noticed that she seemed nervous, and she wondered what it was that the Princess wanted to show her. “I wanted to show you something. Or rather, someone. I wanted you to meet someone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her rambling was adorable, although it left Yaz feeling utterly confused, and more than a little bit worried. If anybody saw her in the Princess’s bedroom, Yaz was in unspeakable trouble. Best case scenario, they would have her cloak and throw her out of the Guard, worst case, she would spend the next portion of her life in the palace dungeon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turned back towards the door, nervously glancing out into the ante-chamber, but it was as empty as when she had left it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He won’t be coming in through there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now Yaz felt entirely at a loss. Turning back, she watched as the Princess unlatched the window, and pulled it open. Yaz took a tentative step towards it, and felt relief wash over her as soon as her eyes landed on what was behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A bird sat on the windowsill, his blue eyes watching Yaz. He seemed strikingly familiar, but Yaz swore she had never seen an animal like it before. The feathers, pearly white, were beautiful to say the least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Meet Caladrius”, Juliannah said. She still seemed nervous, although Yaz now truly had no idea why.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s gorgeous”, she said, walking up to have a closer look. “How long have you had him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I am nobody’s pet, human.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz jumped, stumbling backwards, away from the animal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cal!” Juliannah hissed. “We talked about this!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s pulse was rushing, and she kept staring at the bird. She had heard the voice in her head, as clearly as if someone had spoken to her, and she had instantly known that it had been Caladrius who was talking to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except he was a bird, and birds weren’t able to speak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sigh reverberated through her head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Apologies, Dame Yasmin. I did not mean to scare you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He can talk”, she breathed, her eyes wide and still fixed upon the bird. The animal had no eyebrows, but Yaz swore that he was lifting one at her right now, regardless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“An astute observation.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Caladrius, for the love of –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah was covering her face with her hand now, her cheeks a deep red underneath. “I’m so sorry”, she mumbled, dropping her hand to glance over at Yaz. “He promised he’d be nice to you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bird pushed himself off the windowsill, landing on the foot of the Princess’s bed, where he sat and lifted one of his wings, cleaning the feathers underneath with his beak. When he was done, his piercing blue eyes fixed Yaz across the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The weirdest sense of déjà-vu came over her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I am nice”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the voice in her head said.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “This is me being nice, Juliannah.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess took a step towards Yaz, a questioning look in her eyes. “Yasmin, are you alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz nodded, albeit still feeling a little faint.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like I said”, the Princess began anew, “this is Caladrius. Has anyone ever told you about the mages’ familiars?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz shook her head, still unable to properly formulate words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, every mage used to have an animal companion. The pairs were bound together through an ancient connection. Mages were trying to find out what exactly it is that pulled a magic user and their familiar towards each other, but their research was nowhere near finished before the war began. The only thing we know is that neither the mage nor the animal can choose the bond, it just happens. Caladrius was called to me just after my magic showed for the first time, around my eighth birthday.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that, Yaz seemed to finally find her words once again. “You were eight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s how she avoided the Binding.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz couldn’t stop herself from flinching as Caladrius’s voice resonated in her head once again. “I’m sorry”, she muttered as she felt both the bird’s and Juliannah’s eyes on her. “I’ll get used to it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry”, the Princess said, smiling. “It took me a little while, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It did”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Caladrius spoke, his voice softer than before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz took a deep breath, her gaze dropping to the floor. Pushing aside her feelings at the revelation that she wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite</span>
  </em>
  <span> the only one who knew about the Princess’s magic  – she was, she told herself sternly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to be jealous of a bird – she tried to process what she had just learned. The Princess’s powers had shown themselves when she had only been a child – a child that had been raised in a world where magic was forbidden and anyone who practiced it did so under the threat of being executed. It must have been terrifying to find out she was one of them, more so to realise that, should anyone find out, it could start the war between the nations anew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Yaz stood in the room, imagining a young Juliannah, she realised that the Princess might have been incredibly scared back then, but she had not been alone. She knew then that there was only one thing she truly wanted to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Standing upright, she turned towards Caladrius, and bowed deeply. “I am honoured to meet you, Honourable Caladrius”, she said, her voice clear and devoid of the fear she had exhibited before, “and I am sorry for my initial surprise at your appearance. I thank you for being at the Princess’s side all these years – I am very relieved to know she was not left alone with the burden of her powers. I promise you that I will do everything I can to help you keep her safe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she looked up, she saw Juliannah’s face out of the corner of her eye. There was a slight hint of surprise in the blonde’s eyes, quickly followed by a smile lifting the corners of her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without a word, Caladrius spread his wings, lifting himself off the bed. With a few wingbeats, he was hovering in front of Yaz’s face. Yaz forced herself to stand still, pushing down the slight fear she still felt, and he bowed his head towards her, gently touching her forehead with his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Contact.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voice was much clearer now, and Yaz instinctively closed her eyes. Without it being spoken, she realised that Caladrius was asking permission for something. She hesitated for a moment, then thought of Juliannah.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Contact”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like a door had been opened at the back of her mind, as her consciousness expanded for a moment, and she briefly felt Caladius’s touch upon her own. It was so ancient and vast that Yaz’s breath caught in her throat as she abruptly realised that he was in fact thousands of years old. He had seen so much more of the world and humanity than Yaz could ever imagine, but all those experiences paled in comparison to the overpowering wish to protect the Princess. It was a feeling that Yaz knew all too well herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was over as quickly as it had begun, the consciousness pulling away from hers, yet the door in her mind remained unlocked. As she opened her eyes, blinking sluggishly, she saw Caladrius look over at Juliannah, and then he beat his wings, turning around to fly out the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess stared after him, her mouth hanging open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did not expect that”, she breathed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz blinked harder, trying to bring the world around her back into focus. It all seemed a bit fuzzy at the edges, and she felt slightly dizzy. “What just happened”, she mumbled, lifting her right hand to rub her forehead. It felt slightly cold where Caladrius had touched it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He established a telepathic connection with you”, Juliannah said, still staring out the window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, she turned towards Yaz. Something in the way she held herself had changed, although Yaz could not exactly pinpoint what it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is a great sign of trust. You will be able to initiate a conversation with him, wherever he is, and vice versa. It’s how he and I communicate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz opened her mouth to speak, but found herself unable to find the right words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He trusted her. Calardius, whom Juliannah arguably trusted more than anyone else, trusted Yaz in turn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was then that Yaz realised what it was about the Princess that had changed: the slight tension that always kept her in check, it seemed, had left her body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah smiled at her, and Yaz felt herself smile back.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! As always, I am so looking forward to reading your thoughts :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! I'm sorry it took a bit longer for me to get this chapter out – I was planning to upload it much earlier, but then life got a bit crazy, as it happens, and I simply didn't get around to making the final corrections on it. I should have some time to write over the weekend though so I hope I won't have to make you wait as long for the next chapter :)</p><p>Anyway, here we go!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The dining hall was empty, with only a small group of knights sitting around a table in the corner. Yaz, Ryan, Amy, Clara and Rory all had the morning off, and they had decided to spend it together, starting with a late breakfast in order to give Yaz a chance to sleep in after her shift. Ryan had not complained about the later rising hour either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Graham had just brought them some fresh mugs of tea, and Yaz followed him across the room with her eyes until he disappeared back into the kitchen, closing the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guys”, she said, her eyes still fixed on the door. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone, ever?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clara lifted an eyebrow. “Well that sounds ominous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you get up to something?” Amy asked, and then a moment later, her eyes shining, she added: “This is about that mysterious city lady of yours, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What city lady?”, Rory piped up, and Ryan started wiggling his eyebrows next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guys, shut it”, Yaz groaned. “There is no ‘city lady’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh”, Amy said. “That’s not what you said in the baths back then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you guys just promise you will keep quiet about this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amy sighed. “Fine. I swear on Captain Albrek’s left butt cheek.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Gross</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, Ryan groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Also, I don’t think that’s a valid thing to swear on”, Rory said. “It’s supposed to be something you actually care about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My favorite sword, then. I swear on my favorite sword.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz expectantly looked over at the other ones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, you actually want us to do this?” Clara asked, and Yaz nodded. “Alright, then. I swear on the first girl I ever kissed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan looked over at her, eyes wide. “What?” she said. “Her name was Jane and she was a phenomenal kisser. Moving on. Rory?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rory’s eyes briefly glanced over Amy. “I swear on my mom."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s so morbid, dude”, Ryan said. “I swear on breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Breakfast?” Amy laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the most important meal of the day and it personally means a lot to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz nodded, satisfied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?” Clara said, leaning forward across the table. “What’s this big secret, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz took a deep breath, assuring herself one final time that the door to the kitchen was firmly closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the Lord Protector is seeing someone on the palace staff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh God”, Ryan groaned, dropping his face into his hands. Frowning, Yaz turned towards him. “Well that’s a bit of an excessive reaction, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah”, Clara said. “Elitist much, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lord</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ryan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you say ‘seeing someone’”, Amy said. “Do you mean, courting or… you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan let out an indefinable noise from between his hands, and Yaz was pretty sure that he was blushing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Courting!” Yaz quickly said. “Stars, Amy. Get your mind out of the gutter. They’re actually really sweet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rory let out a low whistle. “You know who it is, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes”, Yaz replied. “But I’m not going to tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw. Come on, Yaz”, Amy said, batting her eyelashes at Yaz. “Not even a hint? I want to know if our Dame Commander has good taste or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe she got herself one of those young, athletic messenger guys”, Clara said, dreamfully staring into the distance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the love of all that is holy will you please shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The table fell quiet as all eyes landed on Ryan, who slowly dropped his hands from his face. His eyes, however, were still screwed shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah”, Clara said quietly. “No need to freak out on us, Ryan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my stars”, Amy suddenly breathed, her eyes wide. “Please don’t tell me </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> fancy the Lord Protector?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryan ripped open his eyes, staring at Amy. “No!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Methinks the lord doth protest too much”, Clara mumbled, eyebrows lifted as she glanced over at Yaz.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s my grandma!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a loud clang, Rory dropped his mug on the table, the leftover warm liquid inside spraying out and landing on both him and Yaz.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry”, he muttered, quickly pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket as he began to dab at the liquid on the table. “So sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence that followed was absolutely deafening. Everyone was staring at Ryan, whose gaze was fixed on the table, his knuckles paling as he held on to his own mug just a little bit too tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never said anything”, Yaz finally whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because”, Ryan replied, still avoiding looking any of them in the eye. “If people knew, there would only be two options. Either everyone would think that I only got here because she put in a good word for me, or I would have to hear every day how I don’t even come close to measuring up to the bravest knight the Royal Guard has ever seen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Ryan”, Clara breathed softly. “Nobody knows?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only the Royal Family. I asked grandma not to tell anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Albrek?” Yaz asked, and Ryan shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow”, Amy said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After another moment of silence had passed, Ryan let out a sigh, finally looking up at them. “I get it if you guys don’t wanna hang out anymore. I mean, I kept a pretty big thing from all of you, and everyone knows it’s weird to hang out with your boss’s family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shut up you idiot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before anyone else could react, Clara had leaned over, pulling Ryan into a hug. At first, he looked surprised, but the expression was quickly replaced by one of deep relief as he sunk into the embrace, wrapping his own arms around Clara. Without saying another word, Amy stood up from the table, and walked over to Ryan, wrapping her arms around his torso from behind. “We love you, you silly man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grinning, Yaz scooched over on the bench, sneaking her own arms around Ryan’s lower torso and resting her head against his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah well, I guess we’re doing the group hug thing”, Rory laughed, and he stood behind them, trying to wrap his arms around all of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The five of them stayed like that for a moment, holding on to each other. In the middle, Ryan still sat at his place, a wide smile on his face.</span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So he finally told someone! Good for him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah he seemed pretty relieved in the end.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can imagine. All of you, you’re like his family, too. I think it’s beautiful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As every night before, Juliannah had guided her out into the gardens. It was the last night that they would get to spend together like this, since as expected the Lord Protector had assigned Yaz to other duties for the following two weeks. Tonight, the Princess had picked a pear, and they shared it while walking, Yaz’s gauntlets fixed to the belt that held her sword. She found herself wishing that this night would never end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speaking about family”, Juliannah said. “I never asked about your parents. What is it that they do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz swallowed a bite. “They own a shop in town, selling all kinds of stuff. Mostly cooking related, pots, pans, things like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your parents are good cooks then, I assume?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mother is, yes”, Yaz replied, then scrunched up her face as she remembered her father’s cooking. “My father not so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Juliannah let out a small laugh, and Yaz smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have siblings?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One little sister, Sonya. She’s a pain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Juliannah lifted an eyebrow, grinning. “I would love to meet her one day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always wondered what it would be like to have siblings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz sighed. “They mostly get on your nerves a lot. Younger ones, anyway. I can’t really say anything about older siblings. You would have to ask Sonya about that when you meet her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will make sure to ask for a full report on your sibling performance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing, they rounded the corner, onto the little path that Yaz by now knew led towards the centre of the garden, and the gazebo that stood there. It was lined with trees that were showing first hints of bloom, delicate pink petals breaking out here and there. Yaz couldn’t wait to see what the branches would look like once they were hung with blossoms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the topic of their conversation had turned to Ryan, the two women had mostly talked about their childhoods, one spent in the city, one in the palace. Yaz had told stories of how she loved to read, and how her father had used to always put some money aside so he could afford to bring her a new book at the beginning of the month.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of books?”, Juliannah had asked, and Yaz had replied, not without a hint of embarrassment, that she loved adventuring tales the most. It had always been the stories about unlikely heroes and their travels that had captured her imagination, ever since she had been a little girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Juliannah, on the other hand, had complained about all the time she had had to spend listening to boring tutors trying to explain the world to her as a child. “Once”, she had said, trying to suppress a grin, “I let an entire cage of mice lose on Lord Darian’s office in order to get out of a test. He refused to teach me after that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you find an entire cage of mice?” Yaz had asked, incredulous, and then Juliannah’s grin had broken out in full. “I spent two weeks catching them in the palace cellars. Come to think of it, I could have probably spent that time studying. But I do not regret my chosen course of action.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So far, whatever questions Yaz had thrown her way, the Princess had answered them, albeit some of them more hesitantly than others. The only topic that the blonde seemed hell bent on avoiding was the upcoming Royal Ball. After a week, Yaz was still no closer to finding out what it was that both Lady Sybill and the King had insinuated during their meeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So”, Yaz said, just as they passed the tiger lillies – Juliannah’s favorite, as she had learned the previous night. “The knights keep talking about whether or not some of us will be stationed inside the ballroom. Everyone is very excited, Graham even mentioned there will be a small gathering for the Guard and the staff the evening before. Sort of a pre-ball get-together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Juliannah smiled, but there was that hint of sadness in her eyes once again that Yaz had come to expect whenever the topic of the ball came up. “Do</span>
  <em>
    <span> you</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to be stationed inside? I have a meeting with the Lord Protector about it tomorrow, I could suggest you be on duty that night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz paused next to the gazebo, mulling the question over in her head as she had a closer look at one of the rose bushes. She wondered if, after Juliannah had asked for her to be Final Shield first thing on the job, it would be too suspicious for her to ask the Lord Protector to have Yaz around for the ball as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Judging by what she said next, the Princess had clearly misinterpreted Yaz’s silence. “I would understand it if you’d say you don’t like these official things too much. Stars know I don’t either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz looked up from the roses. “You don’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Juliannah shook her head. “It’s all… I don’t know how to describe it. It’s a room full of people who deeply distrust each other pretending not to do so. And I will have to dance with every single eligible noble person in the entire –” The blonde stopped herself mid sentence, shaking her head. “Never mind”, she grumbled, and walked past Yaz and into the gazebo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz frowned as she followed her. “But you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to, do you? You’re the Crown Princess, that means –”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Yasmin. It means exactly that I have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The puzzle pieces finally fell into place right in front of Yaz’s inner eye right then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Crown Princess was twenty-five years old, and the sole heir to the Gallifreyan throne. As such, she would be expected to take a suitor before the previous ruler abdicated – and given the fact that this was her grandfather, who was of considerable age, it would be expected of her sooner rather than later. A Royal Ball was the time-honoured tradition to help a Crown Prince or Princess make their choice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz found herself momentarily lost for words. “I see”, was all she finally mumbled, and Juliannah nodded, averting her gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you…”, Yaz began, unsure of how to phrase her next question. “Is there anyone you would… are you free to choose?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It depends on what ‘free’ means, Dame Yasmin”, the Princess replied, her voice hard and a hint of bitterness resonating in it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz felt her body grow cold at the sudden reminder of her standing, and she quickly took a step backwards. “Please pardon my bluntness, Your Royal Highness”, she said, bowing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, please…”, the Princess said, taking a step towards Yaz. “I’m sorry, Yasmin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz looked up, finding Juliannah standing close, with a sad look in her eyes and worrying her bottom lip. “It’s just...”, she began, turning away, kneading her hands behind her back. “I am technically allowed to choose whomever I want from among the nobles of the Alliance. But it is expected that the person I pick is not Gallifreyan, in order to strengthen the bonds between the nations. What that means, in turn, is that I…” Juliannah took a deep breath, turning back to face Yaz. “I’m expected to choose a male suitor, since I am the only heir to the throne. If I marry a woman, the throne would go to her side of the family after my death. A foreign nation would take over Gallifrey, and you can imagine what my advisors are telling me about that scenario. Political ramifications aside, they are guaranteeing immense public outrage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to marry a man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question had come out before Yaz could think better of it, and she knew the answer the moment she saw Juliannah’s jaw clench.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If there is one thing I have learned over the course of my life, Yasmin”, the Princess said, her voice strained, “it’s that what I want does not matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, Yaz simply couldn’t stop herself. Before she knew it, she had reached out for the Princess, and her hand, still uncovered from eating the fruit before, landed on her arm. The cloth of Juliannah’s shirt was incredibly soft, and the skin of Yaz’s palm immediately began to tingle with the contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry”, was all she said, and Juliannah nodded. They stood like that for a few moments, Yaz’s hand resting on the Princess’s arm, Juliannah taking a few deep breaths. Then, the bell chimed in the distance, signalling that it was time to find their way back to the Princess’s room once more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their walk back passed in uncharacteristic silence. Yaz wasn’t sure what more she could say – she was in no position to alleviate the Princess’s sadness, she was all too painfully aware of that. Maybe Grace and Graham stood a chance – a high-ranked soldier and a cook – but Yaz most definitely did not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Juliannah was her future Queen, and Yaz would serve and protect her for as long as she could, and she would be happy with that. It would be enough. It had to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she turned towards Juliannah, standing in the open door, Yaz bowed, her eyes closed as she held on to her shield just a little too tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleep well, Your Royal Highness”, she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she lifted her head, Juliannah was still standing in the doorway, her back turned towards Yaz.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know”, she said quietly, the outline of her profile just barely visible against the candlelight, “I really preferred it when you called me Juliannah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, she was gone.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a comment – it's the best kind of writing motivation :D</p><p>You can also come find me on tumblr, I am @fuxdeiflswued</p><p> </p><p>Next up... did anyone order a homo-erotic sword fight? 👀</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone!! First of all, thank you for your comments on the last chapter! They made my week &lt;3 Everything is alright on my end (again), I just had a very stressful couple of weeks. But things are back to normal now (as much as they can be for a musician in the age of covid :') )</p>
<p>Anyway, here is the next chapter!! I'm super excited for you guys to read it :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yaz had not slept properly in days. All she could think about was the fact that her own mind had betrayed her, that her fever dream had very much been a reality, and that Juliannah had actually come to her room to heal her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The memory of Juliannah kneeling next to her bed, lifting up Yaz’s shirt, was a particularly tricky one. It seemed to lit fires all over Yaz’s body, fires that she was unable to put out. She lay awake at night, her mind conjuring up the feeling of the Princess’s fingers grazing over her skin, and Yaz felt herself flush.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had tried putting in an extra hour of exercising before bed, she had tried taking hot and cold baths, and finally reading until her eyes barely stayed open. As soon as she had blown out her candle and lay in bed, however, her thoughts would always turn back to the same place. It was excruciating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t help that Yaz no longer had an opportunity to talk to the Princess alone, but kept seeing her every day. Now that Yaz was on break from her Final Shield duties, she was guarding Juliannah during the day, always together with another knight. They would walk her to political meetings, and stand in front of her room when she decided to retire there during the day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes, when nobody was paying attention, Juliannah would look straight into Yaz’s eyes, silent questions written on her face. And all Yaz could do was smile back and nod, when her entire body screamed for her to reach out for the blonde, to wrap her arms around her, to pull her close.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Juliannah</span>
  </em>
  <span>, her mind screamed, over and over again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Juliannah, Juliannah, Juliannah.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was deafening, and whatever Yaz tried, it never stopped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the fourth day, it had gotten so bad her friends started to notice that something was off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stars, Yaz”, Ryan muttered as he sat down next to her. He was the last one of their usual group to join them for breakfast – everyone else except Yaz was already on their second cup of tea. “You look like death walking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, good morning to you, too”, Yaz grumbled, and took a sip from her steaming mug. She glanced at the fruit platter in the middle of the table for a second, then quickly dismissed the idea. A side effect of not sleeping well was that her stomach always seemed to be upset in the morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry”, Ryan said, a sheepish look on his face as he reached for an apple. “I’m just worried about you, that’s all. Have you not been sleeping well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz let out a small huff. “Try not at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan frowned. “Maybe you should go check in with Doctor Jones?”, he said. “I’m sure she could mix you some sort of tincture to help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz hadn’t thought about that. “That’s probably a good idea.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dining hall around them had filled up, and a buzz of excitement hung in the air. With a jolt, Yaz remembered that the Lord Protector was supposed to announce the tasks for the Royal Ball this morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I really hope I get to be inside the ballroom”, Amy said, not for the first time this week, as she stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> to know what stupid hats the Polarfreyans currently believe to be the height of fashion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here we go”, Clara muttered, her eyes fixed on the main door. Amy washed down the bread with some tea, and sat up straight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room around them fell silent as Dame Commander Grace walked in, a scroll in her hand. Knights all around them hastily put down their mugs as they stood, greeting the Lord Protector with their traditional salute.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At ease”, the woman spoke, pushing a pair of glasses up her nose as she lifted the scroll.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dame Amelia”, she began, and next to Yaz, Amy tensed up. “Ballroom, west balcony.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yessss.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A couple of heads turned, and Amy awkwardly dropped the fist she had made in jubilation. Her cheeks were glowing. “Sorry”, she muttered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Yaz looked back at the Lord Protector, she swore the woman was suppressing a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She went on through her list, quiet cheers being heard throughout the room whenever someone got one of the coveted inside spots. After Amy, Clara was also called upon to be inside the ballroom, as was Ryan. Rory, however, was guarding the main gates to the palace. He shrugged, not seeming to care as much about it as many of the other knights did, anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz waited, patiently, as the Lord Protector went through all the names alphabetically. She had never much minded being the last guard to be called upon, but today, she found that she was on pins and needles. Finally, Grace got to the end of her list.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dame Yasmin”, she called out, and Yaz balled her hands into fists. “West Corridor, doors.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz felt the disappointment wash over her immediately, and in the corner of her eye, Amy shot her an apologetic glance. She was going to be close to the action, yes, but only for a moment: Yaz would stand guard at the doors that the Royal Family would enter the ballroom through, but that would be it. Once both the King and the Crown Princess had entered the room, she would close the doors, and stand guard on her own on the other side until the Princess decided to retire for the night. It was arguably the most boring of the posts she could have been assigned to – at least Rory would get to see the nobles arrive and leave. If she was lucky, at least the music from inside would make it through the thick oak doors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s probably just a newbie thing”, Ryan said as they sat back down after the Lord Protector had left. “Next ball, you’ll be all in on the action, I’m sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Next ball.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the next ball, she would be opening the doors to the Crown Princess and her Prince consort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz suddenly felt sick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, you’re probably right”, she managed to press out, forcing her lips into a smile as she stood up from the table. “I’ll go ahead to the training grounds, get some exercise in before we start.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as she walked away, she heard Clara whisper to the table: “Do you guys know what’s going on with Yaz?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of metal against metal, the dust rising up from the ground, the hilt of a sword in her hands – this was where Yaz felt most like herself, even with everything that was going on. She was back to training every other day now, but felt herself wishing she could do this every day instead. Nothing helped her clear her mind like a good sword fight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had just finished a training duel against Rory, and was gulping down water from a mug. It was warm today, as spring had really begun to settle in for good. Yaz closed her eyes, lifting her head to let the sun warm her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Captain Albrek!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s eyes flew open at the familiar voice, and all around her, a hush fell over the training grounds as knights lowered their weapons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Royal Highness”, Albrek replied, falling into a deep bow. The other knights quickly followed suit, except for Yaz.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz was frozen in place as she stared at Juliannah, unable to tear her eyes away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess was not in her regular elegant garb that she wore during the day, nor was she wearing one of the outfits she had donned for their night walks – less flashy, but by no means less valuable. Instead, Juliannah wore a dark red gambeson. The opening that went from her left shoulder to her right hip was held close by black leather straps. Her hands were covered by fencing gloves of the same material, which also matched her boots. Around her hip hung a rapier, its guard twisted in ornate swirls. Her hair was held back in a small ponytail, one unruly strand hanging loose against her left cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yaz!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was Rory’s panicked hiss that snapped Yaz out of it. Closing her mouth that had opened without her noticing, she quickly bowed. Lucky enough for her, Captain Albrek had been too busy greeting the unexpected visitor to notice her faux-pas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can we do for you, Your Royal Highness”, she heard Captain Albrek say, and the knights slowly shifted, lifting their heads. Yaz could tell by their faces that everyone was curious about why the Crown Princess had found her way onto the training grounds of all places.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unfortunately, my fencing master tells me that my skills have become rusty. He recommended training with a new duel partner, and I thought what better ones to choose from than your knights.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Albrek gave a shallow bow at the compliment. “Of course, Your Royal Highness.” He eyed the rapier hanging from her hip. “I am sorry to tell you however that my knights are only trained in the use of longswords. Would you still like to proceed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, actually I think it would be a wonderful opportunity to test my limits.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well, Princess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Albrek turned towards the assembled group of knights, his eyes scanning over them one by one, assessing which one would be best suited for the task. His eyes briefly landed on Amy, and Yaz held her breath for a second. But then he passed over her, continuing his search.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When his eyes fixed Yaz’s, she felt her entire body go cold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh dear stars, please no</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought. But then Captain Albrek nodded, and turned towards the Princess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would like to propose Dame Yasmin as your opponent, Your Royal Highness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess’s brow creased for a moment, and her eyes darted over to Yaz, who stood frozen in panic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well, Captain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In front of Yaz, the knights parted, creating an open path towards the centre of the training grounds. Her feet started moving towards it of their own accord, and Yaz swallowed hard as she stepped into the duelling space, taking up her place opposite the Princess. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got this, Yaz!”, Amy cheered quietly, although not quite quietly enough. Juliannah lifted an eyebrow at the sound of the nickname, and smiled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s cheeks were burning, and she gave another quick bow towards the Princess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I must warn you, Dame Yasmin”, the Princess spoke. “My rapier is sharp. If you wish to switch out your weapon, you should do it now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz glanced at the slim blade in the blonde’s hand, now unsheathed. She couldn’t possibly imagine how the Princess was going to do damage with it, given the fact that Yaz was in full plate armour. Her own longsword, however, could do more than enough damage by sheer force, even with a blunt edge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook her head. “I don’t want to hurt you –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Juliannah.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“– Your Royal Highness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll do my very best not to be a target, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was something so teasing about the way she said it that Yaz’s heart sped up just a little bit, her hands beginning to sweat in her gauntlets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Captain Albrek stood between them, giving the signal for them to start. They took up their fighting stances, and he briefly stopped next to Yaz on his way out of the duelling space. “This is not about you winning, Dame”, he hissed. “I trust you.” He shot her a glance, the meaning clear as day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz gave an imperceptible nod in response. She had not planned on causing the blonde any harm, even without Albrek’s warning. Still, she at least had to make it look like she was actually in this fight, otherwise the Princess would know that she was voluntarily pulling her punches. Yaz had a distinct feeling the blonde would not be appreciative of that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had never fought against someone who used a rapier. It was a fine weapon, and by the stance the Princess had taken on – sideways, her head turned towards Yaz as her sword arm held the weapon out – she was going for stabbing, rather than hitting. It was the main difference between their weapons, one meant to win by sheer force, the other meant to be handled with delicateness. Yaz couldn’t imagine the slim blade surviving a single hit from her longsword.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess seemed to be waiting for Yaz to make the first move, and so she did. With a couple of quick steps, she was in front of the blonde, lifting her blade.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The expected parry never came. Instead, Juliannah ducked away sideways, and Yaz’s sword swished through the empty air, briefly throwing her off balance. Eyes wide, she tried to turn around as quickly as possible, but in the same moment, she already felt a stinging sensation in her armpit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time she had turned around, the Princess was on the other side of the circle, back in her starting position, a single drop of blood falling from the tip of her rapier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bloody hell, she cut me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Yaz thought as she realised what had happened. The Princess had used the slimness of her blade in order to get Yaz in one of the only places she could: where the plate of her upper arm guard and the curve of her spaulders did not quite meet in order to allow shoulder movement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She clearly had underestimated the Princess’s skill.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time, she waited for the Princess to make the first move. They circled each other slowly, a glint of mischief shining in the blonde’s eyes that made Yaz feel faint.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t help that she looked the way she did in that gambison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her brief lapse of concentration was exactly what Juliannah had been waiting for. She darted forward, her rapier stretched out ahead of her and aimed at the crook of Yaz’s elbow – another weak spot in her armour. Yaz ripped her sword up, sensing her chance to hit the slimmer blade and maybe even dent it, but before she could do so, the Princess changed direction, swirling her blade further upwards. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz managed to move her head just before the tip of the Princess’s rapier was able to slice into her cheek. Before she could try to land a hit, the blonde was gone once again, at a safe distance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She imagined that this was what a mouse must feel like, being played with by a cat just before being eaten. Yaz blinked, daring a brief glance at the other knights surrounding them. Their eyes were wide, clearly in awe of the Princess’s fighting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What followed was probably best described as a delicate and deadly dance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess, having given up on the teasing slashes, began swirling around Yaz, darting in and out of range way quicker than Yaz’s armour allowed her to react to. Whenever Yaz turned towards her, she was gone already, slashing at another part of Yaz’s body. She managed to pull herself away quickly enough for some slashes not to hit, but soon enough she had papercut-like wounds under both her shoulders, and the back of her right knee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Growling, Yaz pulled her sword around, and suddenly, the Princess was right in front of her. The blonde’s eyes went wide as Yaz’s sword came crashing through the air, with more force than Yaz had intended.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Panic grabbed at her throat as she realised that there was too much weight behind the blow to dampen it now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A fraction of a second passed, and then Juliannah shifted her weight, trying to pull herself out of harm’s way as she lifted her rapier up in what seemed like an extremely awkward angle to Yaz, shifting it in between the knights arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aaah!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before she knew what had happened, Yaz had let go of her sword, a searing pain running through her left arm. Her weapon flew away in a wide berth, missing the Princess who had moved to Yaz’s side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz blinked, registering the blood that was pooling at the crook of her left elbow. In that same moment, an arm was slung over her left shoulder, wrapping around Yaz’s torso and pulling her back into a slightly smaller, softer body. In the same, fluid motion, the edge of the rapier’s blade appeared underneath her chin, held up against her throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything was quiet around them, the knights and even Captain Albrek holding their breaths.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I yield”, Yaz spoke, and the knights all around them broke out in thunderous applause and cheers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess leaned forward, the loose strand of hair tickling Yaz’s neck, her lips almost touching Yaz’s ear. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad”, she whispered, and then a second later: “Yaz.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the Princess let go of her, Yaz’s entire body was on fire.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! If you have a moment, please consider leaving a comment. I absolutely love hearing your thoughts :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Alrighty, time for a little change in POV :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“I am not a carrier pigeon, Juliannah.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t understand, Cal. I showed her up! In front of her colleagues </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> a superior.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“She will be fine.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah groaned, dropping herself onto her bed, her face in her palms. She had not intended to show off the way she did on the training grounds, but somehow she hadn’t been able to stop herself once the fight had begun. Her intention had truly only been to get in some extra training, push herself to combat against a foe she wasn’t used to – after all, if any army ever stormed the palace, stars forbid, she might well end up going face to face against an armoured knight. All she had wanted was to be prepared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If only bloody Albrek hadn’t chosen Yasmin of all people to be her opponent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yaz.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The nickname still felt new, and it filled her chest with warmth. Knowing what a person’s friends or family called them was always something special, something almost intimate, and as someone who found herself rarely addressed even by her full first name, Juliannah knew that all too well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the memory of Yaz’s expression after the fight on her mind – the woman had barely been able to look her in the eye – Juliannah had spent the better part of the day trying to convince Caladrius to bring a note and a small gift to Yaz’s room, as an apology. The bird, however, had proven to be extremely stubborn once again, bristling at the mere suggestion of being used as a messenger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, Juliannah dropped her hands, resolved to do something about the situation herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine”, she said, standing up. “I’ll go bring it to her myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Juliannah!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caladrius’s voice was stern in her head, but she chose to ignore it, heading straight for the door instead. Before she could open it, however, the bird appeared in front of her face, his wings outstretched as he hovered in mid-air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It will look suspicious at best, you know that.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah sighed. “I know, Cal. It’s just… I feel bad about how it all transpired, and there’s no opportunity for me to talk to her at the moment. If I could just see her before tonight…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She dropped her gaze. In the corner of her room, Donna had already hung up the clothes she was supposed to wear at tonight’s Royal Ball. She would forever be grateful for the fact that the woman hadn’t tried to get her to wear a dress for the occasion, marriage prospects be damned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I won’t bring her your gift –”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah swallowed, her shoulders tensing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“– but I guess I could bring you to her.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She lifted her head, eyes wide. Then, before Caladrius could move away, she threw her arms around him, pulling him against her chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not the hugging!”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he screeched in her head, frantically batting his wings. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You know I’m against the hugging!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Juliannah held on to him for a second longer. “Thank you”, she breathed into the mess of feathers, and for a moment, the bird stilled. When she let go of him, he flew over to her bed, positioning himself on top of one of the posters, a safe distance between them as he threw her an indignant glance and set to clean his feathers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah immediately walked over to her desk, picking up the parcel that lay on it. She had wrapped it herself, and it showed: the edges were messy and the paper was crinkled, but it was the best she could do. She hoped it would be enough to make Yaz forgive her for showing her up like she had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Now?”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Cal said, cocking his head to the side, and Juliannah nodded eagerly.  “She’ll be expected on duty at five, which means she’s probably getting ready right now. We should still be able to catch her if we go straight away.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a sigh and a ruffle of his feathers, Cal descended from the poster, and landed on Juliannah’s outstretched hand instead. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Fine.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her heart pounding, she reached out for his feathers, and the world around her was submerged in bright light. When her vision cleared up again, her sight had merged with Caladrius’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cal expertly unlatched the window with his beak, and let himself drop into the courtyard, catching a breeze underneath his wings. They rounded a tower, then another one, and with a quick flap of his wings, Caladrius landed them outside of Yaz’s window. He pecked against the window, then waited. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz arrived on the other side a moment later, her eyes widening as she opened the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honourable Caladrius”, she said, giving a brief bow as he hopped onto the inner windowsill. “Is everything alright? Did anything happen to –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caladrius sighed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Try not to faint or scream, please.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinked, and Juliannah’s consciousness left his body, returning to her own in front of Yaz. When Juliannah opened her eyes, regaining focus, Yaz stood, her face pale, her mouth open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was then that Juliannah fully took notice of Yaz. The knight had indeed been in the process of getting ready for tonight’s shift, and Juliannah seemed to have crashed into her room at a most inopportune moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman’s hair was still wet, undoubtedly from the bath she must have taken not too long ago, plastered to the back of her neck. She had already put on the trousers Guards wore underneath their uniform, but her feet were still naked. What Juliannah’s eyes stuck to, however, was Yaz’s torso: the knight wore a sleeveless tunic, unbuttoned, showing her bound chest (something to make the wearing of her armour more comfortable, no doubt), and leaving her arms uncovered. Juliannah’s eyes trailed over the woman’s muscular arms, showing scars here and there, and briefly landed on the spot of naked skin above the material that covered her chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah swallowed, the ability to speak temporarily leaving her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An image flashed through her mind, of her hands reaching for Yaz’s waist underneath the tunic, naked skin hot under her fingers as she pushed the knight against the wall behind her and pressed her face into the woman’s neck. In her mind, Yaz’s hand reached into her hair, and her breath caught in her throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, she was coughing, somehow having inhaled her own spit. She bent over, trying to regain control over her breathing, and Yaz took a step towards her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Princess!”, she said, reaching out towards her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought of those arms anywhere near her made Juliannah feel like she was about to combust, and she took a quick step backwards, extending her hands in front of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine”, she sputtered. “I’m fine!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yasmin looked entirely unconvinced, and Juliannah wished her cheeks would stop burning. As she finally dared to fully look up again, she noticed the parcel she was holding in her right hand, still hovering in the space between herself and Yaz. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She straightened herself, awkwardly pulling the parcel against her chest. Thankfully, Yaz seemed to suddenly realise the state of undress she was in, and she quickly turned her back, muttering excuses as she buttoned her tunic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry”, she said as she turned back around. “This is completely inappropriate… I just… you took me by surprise, I thought it was just… How did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s preoccupation with Juliannah’s way of appearing in the middle of the room took away part of her embarrassment, and she cleared her throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah”, she said, still holding the book in front of her chest. “Caladrius and I can merge consciousness. It’s a safe way of transport for any mage and their familiar. It’s how I managed to dip in and out without anyone noticing, back when I healed your wound.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz nodded, still staring at Caladrius, who sat on the window sill, looking somewhat perturbed. Juliannah used the opportunity to trace a scar on Yaz’s upper arm with her eyes. She stopped when she reached a small bandage, wrapped around Yaz’s elbow where Juliannah had cut her. When Yaz turned her attention back to her, she suddenly remembered why she had come here in the first place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I came to apologise to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s eyes widened. “Why would you –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please”, Juliannah said, lifting a hand in the air to stop Yaz mid-sentence. “I did not mean to show you up like that in front of your colleagues. I brought you a gift which I hope will make up for it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She extended the wrapped up book towards Yaz, who took it from her with gentle reverence, as if it was the most precious thing in the world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you”, Yaz muttered. “But that really wasn’t necessary. You didn’t embarrass me at all – on the contrary. I think I learned a great deal from that fight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah felt relief flood through her, and a moment later, embarrassment at the fact that she had apparently misunderstood Yaz’s silence after their duel and had come rushing straight into her room, disregarding her privacy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry”, she said, pulling her hands behind her back and kneading her palm with her thumb. “I shouldn't have imposed on you like this. I was worried that I had hurt your feelings, but I see now that I was wrong to make that assumption. Still, I do hope that you enjoy my gift.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah turned around, eager to leave the room and this entire situation behind her. She was just about to reach out for Caladrius when she heard the tearing of wrapping paper, and a soft intake of breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her hand froze in mid-air, inches away from Cal’s feathers, and she slowly turned around to see the paper falling to the floor, revealing a small book bound in old, brown leather. Yaz was simply staring at it, eyes bright and filled with excitement. Juliannah couldn’t help but smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had to search around for a bit”, she said while Yaz carefully opened the book, feeling the pages between her fingers. “There’s not a lot of adventuring tales to be found in the palace libraries, but I knew there must be some. I was told my father had a soft spot for them as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “Your father?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah nodded. “I found it in what used to be his personal library. It’s been mine since I came of age, but I had always been more interested in going through his books on science. There is, however, a small section with adventuring books. They are yours to take whenever you desire, Yaz.” Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she quickly added: “I hope it’s alright for me to call you that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes”, Yaz immediately replied. “Of course.” She carefully closed the book, then took a step towards Juliannah. “I don’t know how to thank you. I will make sure to treat this book with great care.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah laughed. “Please don’t. I was told there would be biscuit stains on the pages of most of my fathers old books, and I have come to find that to be true so far. So no need for special attention. I really meant it, it is yours to do with as you please, as are his other books. I’ll show you where to find them on our next… excursion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz laughed, and in the same moment, tried to inconspicuously wipe a tear out of the corner of her eye. It warmed Juliannah’s heart so much that she made a silent promise to herself in that moment to always make Yaz smile like this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yaz? You ready?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both women froze at the voice coming from the other side of the door. Juliannah’s eyes went wide, and Cal was next to her in a matter of seconds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go”, Yaz breathed, urgency in her voice. “I will see you later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was so much more that Juliannah wanted to say, but she knew that the two of them being caught alone in Yaz’s room would at the very best lead to terrible rumours, and at the very worst could cost Yaz her position. As horrible as it was to Juliannah, she was well aware that whatever she would say in Yaz’s defense, a perceived indecency would always end up being blamed on the knight, not the Crown Princess. She reached out for Cal’s feathers, a silent apology in her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as they dropped out into the courtyard, their minds and bodies merged once again, Juliannah heard the door to Yaz’s room open. She caught a glimpse of Dame Amelia, in full uniform, throwing her hands up in the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why aren’t you ready? Our shift starts in ten minutes!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then she was out of earshot, Caladrius batting his wings to fly high above the palace until he dropped down towards her room once again. Juliannah practically fell into her bedchamber, quickly detaching herself from Cal without paying proper attention. She was breathing hard, her blood still rushing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was too close”, she groaned, closing her eyes as she mentally prepared herself for a lecture from her familiar. When it didn’t come, she carefully opened them again and threw a glimpse at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caladrius was sitting on her window sill, and she wondered why he wasn’t entering the room. Something seemed off about him, and as she tried to reach out towards him with her mind, his thoughts felt like rough cloth against skin, unclear to Juliannah in a way that told her he was currently purposefully shielding them from her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cal, are you alright?”, she asked, frowning as she took a step towards him. The bird stiffened, pulling back his head just a little bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Your thoughts”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he began, sounding almost like he was in pain. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Can be very loud.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah blinked, confused. “I don’t understand what –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The realisation hit her like a racing horse, and panic spread through her, draining her face of all feeling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh stars”, she breathed, her entire body turning hot and cold all at the same time. “Cal I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to – it was just… I don’t know why –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“We will resume your lessons in telepathic shielding, effective immediately.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Juliannah could say anything more, Caladrius had disappeared through the window in a rush of white feathers, leaving her standing alone in the middle of her room, cheeks burning and heart pounding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t know what had come over her in Yaz’s room – she was simply not used to seeing other people in various states of undress, sheltered as her upbringing had been. It didn’t help that every single one of her teachers had been rather vague whenever the subject had turned to matters of the flesh; the closest Juliannah had come to learning anything was the summer she had spent sneaking kisses from Lady Rose as they stole away into hidden archways and back rooms, avoiding Juliannah’s constant entourage as best as they could. But they had both only been sixteen, without any kind of experience and no other guidance but the heat of their lips against the other’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The memory in Juliannah’s head suddenly morphed into a new image, this time of her and Yaz, pressed into a doorway somewhere in the palace, a smile on Yaz’s face as she leaned towards her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah’s skin felt like someone had placed a thousand needles across her entire body, and she had trouble calming her breathing. Panicked, she began pacing across the room, picking up an empty vial from her desk and spinning it between her fingers. In two hours, she would walk into the ballroom, and all eyes would be on her as she navigated the room. It would be expected of her to accept every dance proposal that was made to her tonight, as the implication of a Royal Ball for an heir to the throne her age was clear: she was to find a suitor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But here she stood, unable to rip her thoughts away from one singular subject: Yaz.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz whom she had entrusted with her biggest secret, Yaz who had arguably saved her life that night, Yaz who she could talk to like nobody else, Yaz who felt safe and kind and honest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz who made her heart speed up and her head spin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If there ever had been an inopportune moment to realise what had truly led her to give away her secret that night, it was this exact one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A knock on the door made Juliannah jump, the glass vial slipping out of her hand and bursting as it hit the floor. “Oh for the love of…”, she hissed as the shards of glass flew everywhere. Another mess that her chamberers would want to murder her in her sleep for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come in”, she sighed as she kneeled down on the floor. She could at least appease their wrath by taking care of the bigger pieces.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door opened, and in came a woman in her thirties, red hair half down, held in place by two braids that ran from her temples to her neck. She wore an emerald green dress, elegant in its simplicity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Princess”, she said with a sigh as she dipped into a brief curtsey. “I see you have been conducting another one of your… experiments.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Donna”, Juliannah said as she pushed herself up from the floor with one hand, carrying bits of glass in the other. “I proclaim my innocence. I simply dropped a vial.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see”, the lady-in-waiting said, one eyebrow raised in a show of disbelief, a smile dancing across her lips. “Should we get you ready for the ball, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah’s heart sunk in her chest as she glanced over at the outfit neatly hung up in the corner of her room. For a brief but sweet moment, she had forgotten.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we must”, she spoke, barely containing a grimace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Donna, observant as always, immediately caught her change in expression. She placed her fists on her hips, frowning, but before she could say anything, Juliannah shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s just get it over with.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! I'm excited to hear your thoughts on Juliannah's little gay breakdown ;D</p>
<p>Next up, the Royal Ball!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! It's finally time for the ball :D </p>
<p>Special thanks to Joli for the inspiration for Juliannah's outfit! :)</p>
<p>Preparation for this chapter involved me dancing the waltz on my own in my living room 😂 Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Juliannah had to admit that Donna had chosen her outfit well. She looked herself over in the mirror: a white jacket, held closed by rows of delicate golden cord, their ends wound into swirling shapes; white trousers of the same material, golden lining running down the sides of her legs and disappearing into brown boots, polished to shine. Juliannah’s favorite part of her outfit, however, was the short cloak that was draped over only one of her shoulders. It was an old family heirloom, and Juliannah knew it well, since it was what her father wore on his official portrait. Tonight, however, was the first time that she wore it herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The soft fabric fell elegantly over her shoulder and down to her calves – on her father’s portrait, it only reached his knees, but Juliannah was a head smaller than he had been, or so she had been told. The cloak was unlike anything one could see across the courts of Kasterborous: it looked, simply put, like somebody had sown the night sky itself into a cloth. A million shades of blue rippled across the fabric, changing depending on how the light hit them. Silver embroidering, almost unrecognisable as such, drew star constellations all over the cloak. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In short, everything about her outfit practically screamed “Crown Princess”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything with your hair?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Donna was looking her over, a frown on her face. There were two things which Juliannah had insisted upon: No face paint, and that she would wear her hair down. It would be a reminder that in spite of everything, she was still herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only thing that adorned her head was a slim tiara: delicate blue flowers were wound across her forehead. It was tradition for the crown of the heir to show flowers, as a symbol for their ties to the earth and their people. When it had been Juliannah’s time to choose, she had picked Delphiniums.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking up at Donna in the mirror, Juliannah shook her head. “Fine, then”, the Countess replied. “I have one last change to make, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah frowned, looking down over her outfit again. There was nothing missing as far as she could tell. When she looked up however, Donna was holding out a small box towards her. She turned around, facing the redhead directly as she took the box from her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is this?”, she asked, pulling on the red string that was wrapped around the box. Donna did not reply, and so Juliannah opened it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first thing she saw was a small card, familiar handwriting adorning it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Happiness first, Juli.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Swallowing, Juliannah lifted the card away, revealing a beautiful piece of jewelry underneath. An earpiece showed two hands, one made of gold, one of silver, holding on to each other. It was connected via a delicate chain to a silver ear cuff – a constellation of stars.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When did this arrive?”, she asked, looking up to see Donna smiling softly,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This morning”, Donna replied. “Along with a letter from John. Here, let me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Donna took the jewelry from its box, and proceeded to fix it onto Juliannah's ear, whose thoughts turned to her childhood love.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose had married Lord John – Donna’s best friend – a year ago. It was an arrangement that had brought everyone, including Juliannah, great joy. Her feelings for Rose had long subsided, although she would be lying if she said that there wouldn’t always be warmth in her heart for the woman. A feeling that was normal when it came to first loves, or so Juliannah had read. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is Lord John?”, she asked, and immediately laughed as an exasperated expression appeared on Donna’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He has invented another machine, he tells me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see. And what does this one do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Apparently”, Donna began, closing her eyes, “this one goes ‘ding’, your Highness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Donna opened her eyes again a moment later, both women broke out into loud laughter. As loveable as Lord John was, he did have a penchant for… questionable inventions. At the end of the day, Juliannah could not fault him for it, given the numerous alchemy sets that adorned her own room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment was interrupted by a knock on the door. Juliannah’s laugh instantly died on her lips, and she felt a fist close around her heart. Taking a deep breath, she turned towards the door, but was stopped when Donna spoke again, uncharacteristically quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May I speak freely?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surprised, Juliannah looked over at her. “Always.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lady-in-waiting took a moment, keeping her gaze locked with Juliannah’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am well aware of what is expected of you tonight, Princess. But if there is one thought I can give you, to take with you to the ball...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah nodded, encouraging the woman to go on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A sovereign has duties to their country” – Juliannah felt her jaw clench. She was all too aware of this, and had not expected a lecture from Donna of all people – “but they are of no use to their people if they are miserable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah’s eyes widened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another knock sounded from the door, announcing the arrival of the King. She pulled herself out of her stupor, her head swimming with what Donna had just insinuated as she left her room. She knew that her lady-in-waiting wasn’t alone with her opinion – Bill, although she had never said it openly, was in doubtless agreement with her, especially given her own personal circumstances. Juliannah had no questions about the intention behind Rose's note, either. Yet no one had ever been quite as clear about their opinion as Donna had just been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no time to dwell on what had been said, as she was greeted in the hallway by her grandfather, flanked by two of his King’s Guards. As had been his custom for official occasions since the death of Juliannah’s parents, he was dressed in all black. A simple yet elegant coat fell to his knees, and one might have mistaken him for a member of the lower aristocracy, were it not for the crown that was perched atop his head. At first glance, it looked like a plain ring of gold, almost understated in comparison to some of the lavish crowns that adorned the heads of other rulers. Only those stepping up closer could see that its entire surface was covered in star constellations, etched into the precious metal. It was a symbol for the Gallifreyans belief that they were guided by the luminaries that shone above them. As the heir was bound to the earth, so was the Sovereign to the stars.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Given the formality of the occasion, Juliannah fell into a deep bow in front of her grandfather. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Your Majesty." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Juliannah." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His voice was soft, and when Juliannah lifted her head, she swore that there was worry hidden underneath his smile. Without another word, he offered his arm, and Juliannah looped hers through it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Together, they made their way towards the ballroom, flanked by the King's Guards. The closer they got, the harder Juliannah's heart was beating in her chest, and as they rounded the corner into the final hallway, it skipped a beat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the middle of the large double door that was the Royal Entrance stood Yaz, her shield lifted proudly in front of her chest, gaze fixed straight ahead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah had almost forgotten that she had ordered the knight to be placed here. She knew that Yaz would probably prefer getting to watch some of the action – she had alluded to it during their last walk a week ago. But somehow, Juliannah had felt uncomfortable, almost anxious at the thought of having Yaz watch her navigate the evening, making conversation, dancing. Had she not understood the feeling in the moment, she did now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn't want Yaz to have to watch her be courted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After the knight had bowed deeply to both the King and Juliannah, she stepped aside, freeing the way for the King to enter. His two Guards had already taken their positions at the door, from behind which soft music could be heard, each of them grabbing a hold of one handle. They would walk through the doors after him, standing Guard on the other side until he retired for the night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah stood next to Yaz in the corner, making sure she could not be seen when the doors opened. Tonight was all about her, and she was expected to enter last, a couple of moments after the King.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her grandfather looked over at her, and Juliannah nodded, squaring her shoulders. For a moment, he looked like he was about to say something, but then the doors opened, and a booming voice on the other side proclaimed:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"His Majesty, King Alistair the Twelfth, Star-Blessed Sovereign of Gallifrey!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was only once the door had clicked shut and the music, having momentarily stopped for the announcement of the King's arrival, took up again that Juliannah dared look at the knight next to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yaz."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The young woman smiled at her, but there was a tentativeness in her gaze, and when she replied a moment later, she did so softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Juliannah." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah's ribcage almost painfully expanded the moment her name left Yaz's lips. Suddenly, there was warmth everywhere, radiating out from her chest to flood her entire body. For a moment, it almost felt like she couldn't breathe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Happiness first. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It only lasted a second or two, but Juliannah felt like something had shifted deep inside her the moment her name had been spoken, for the first time intentionally, by the other woman.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I may”, Yaz said, “you look beautiful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was so much more that she wanted to say, but she stopped herself, the two women simply looking at each other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I think it's time", Juliannah finally said, even though there was a voice at the back of her head, and not a quiet one, that told her to grab Yaz's hand and simply run. Away from the ball, away from her responsibilities, towards a garden like the one in the middle of the palace. There had to be a place, somewhere, the voice screamed, where she could be free to choose Yaz. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The knight, blissfully unaware of the voice shouting in Juliannah's head, only nodded and lifted her hand to knock on the door – the signal for the Guards on the other side to open it once more – while Juliannah positioned herself in front of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good luck", Yaz whispered, and then her knuckles touched the wood, and the doors opened up to the ballroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A broad marble staircase led down in front of Juliannah, ending right at the edge of the dancefloor. The strings that had been playing in the corner instantly stopped as the sound of a cane hitting the floor reverberated through the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Her Royal Highness, the Crown Princess Juliannah of Gallifrey."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her skin burned underneath her clothes as every single pair of eyes in the room suddenly landed on her. She registered the sound of the doors being pulled shut behind her, and resisted the urge to turn around in an attempt to catch a final glimpse of Yaz. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, everything was quiet, and it felt like the entire room was holding their breath. Then, Juliannah took a step towards the stairs, and the musicians began to play again. Conversation picked up once more, although most eyes were still fixed on Juliannah. When she finally made it to the end of the stairs, she let out a long breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Royal Highness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And so it begins</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought as a man immediately stepped up to her, a charming smile on his lips. She had hoped that they would at least give her a chance to grab a glass of the rather delicious mead that was usually served at official occasions before they would start throwing themselves in her way. Juliannah had no wish or even intention to get through this evening completely sober.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She recognised the man who had appeared at her side as the Duke of Ethram, a member of the Terserian aristocracy. Juliannah had heard many things about him from Bill, including that he did not use his charm sparingly, to put it mildly. His dark hair was held back by a ponytail, and Juliannah had to admit that he did look rather striking in his red, velvet doublet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you have only just arrived, but I could not let the opportunity pass to ask for your very first dance, Your Royal Highness. Would you do me the honour?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He held out his hand, that mischievous smile still across his lips. Juliannah had to admit that even with her rather limited interest in men, she found him quite handsome.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pondered his offered hand for a moment. At the end, there was no use prolonging this whole affair any longer than she would have to, and so she nodded, placing her own hand into his. “Very well, Your Grace.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She danced two minuets with the Duke, all while exchanging small bits of conversation. The man seemed hellbent on throwing every possible compliment in existence her way, but Juliannah deflected them all with a polite smile. If there was one thing she knew she did not want, it was a husband who would chase the skirt of every single woman on her staff, putting them into situations where they might fear for their livelihood should they refuse his advances.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the end of the second dance, just as the Duke was bowing to her, another person appeared next to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May I cut in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah couldn’t have been more thankful as her eyes fell on the eldest child of Polarfrey’s Lord Chancellor, and heir to his title. As was the current fashion in Polarfrey, their white hair was cut short and swept back. A dark green tunic, covered partially by a black vest, fell to their knees. From what Juliannah remembered about the last time she had met Noble Zuray, at a banquet about a year ago, they were an excellent dancer. “With pleasure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Duke retreated with a bow and a sour expression on his face, and as the pace of the music picked up around them, Juliannah and Zuray began spinning around the room in a rapid succession of twirls and jumps. The music was growing ever quicker, until it all came to a breathtaking conclusion and they stopped, bowing towards each other. Juliannah could see someone moving towards her from the corner of her eye, and she inadvertently scrunched up her face. But then Zuray stepped forwards, wrapping Juliannah’s hand in theirs and lifting it between them, waiting for the music to begin once again. Whoever it had been who had wanted to cut in, they immediately retreated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you”, Juliannah mouthed, and Zuray smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment later, they began to move to the music once again, a slower piece this time that would allow for some conversation.</span>
  <span></span>
    <br/>
  
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I realised you did not seem too eager to spend another dance with the Duke of Ethram”, Zuray began as they moved around each other in a quick succession of simple steps. “I hope it was not too presumptuous of me to start this little rescue mission, your Royal Highness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah felt herself smile. “Not at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then if the need should arise again tonight, I shall attempt to be right at your side.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah felt somewhat relieved at the thought of a friendly face appearing to extricate her from what would doubtlessly be more uncomfortable moments lying ahead. She nodded, and Zuray gave her a warm smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her time with Zuray was cut short however, as another man asked for the next dance with the final note of the previous one having barely been played. No doubt the Lord Matthew had not wanted to give Zuray an opportunity to step in once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She danced a Gigue with Lord Matthew, and two more dances with a Count and a Baronex after. At the end of a Bourrée spent with the Viscountess Mae – a vision in her bright purple dress – Juliannah excused herself as soon as the musicians lifted their bows, finally plucking a glass of mead from the silver tablet of a passing waitron. She took an eager sip, and let out a soft moan as the sweet liquid hit the back of her throat. Maneuvering her way towards the banquet table that stood against the wall, she knocked back the rest of the liquid in one go, and immediately exchanged her empty glass for a full one as another waitron passed her by. As soon as Juliannah got to the table, she grabbed one of the small sandwiches, using her full mouth as an excuse to avoid conversation for at least a couple of minutes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She almost let out an audible groan as she felt someone stop next to her, convinced that it was another suitor here to steal her away. Instead, to Juliannah’s relief, the voice was familiar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see your enthusiasm for this whole endeavour is about as big as I expected.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking a long sip from her cup, Juliannah turned to face Lady Sybill.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you expect anything else?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Duchess smiled wryly. “Not really. And I cannot say that I fault you for it, either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah shrugged, looking out over the dance floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You seemed to enjoy your time with their nobleship?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled. “I did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bill immediately sounded eager, and inched closer. “A prospect?”, she asked, but Juliannah shook her head. “They were only doing me a favor. Zuray told me years ago that they have no interest in romantic relationships.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, I see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stood in silence, sipping their drinks. Finally, Juliannah let out a small sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know what to do, Bill.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hated the admission as soon as it had left her lips. Bill frowned, moving closer and lowering her voice in an attempt to shield their conversation from the ears of the nobles all around them. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah knew that she should stop right there, brush it all off as nothing more than a bout of nerves at the daunting prospect of choosing someone to potentially spend the rest of her life with. Instead, she replied as quietly as Bill had spoken before her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There might be someone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She quickly grabbed another cup of mead from a waitron, and busied herself with swirling the liquid around in its glass. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are they here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Technically</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Juliannah thought, but simply shook her head in response before taking a sip. She could practically </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bill’s frown deepen, and then there was a sudden intake of breath. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t tell me your heart still lies with Lady Rose? I’m afraid you missed your chance there, Princess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah let out a small laugh. “No, Bill. Not Rose.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, who are you –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Royal Highness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah was about to make a remark that would very probably make her political advisors break out into nervous hives, but then her eyes fell on the man standing in front of her, and she almost choked on the sip of mead she had just taken. She recovered just in time to straighten her back and give a polite short bow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lord Koschei.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The newly elected Lord Master of Karn lifted an eyebrow at the lack of proper address, but Juliannah chose to ignore it. She had been told that he would be attending, but she had not expected him to strike up a conversation with her. Her thoughts immediately turned to Donna, who was currently trying to seduce the Lord Master’s staff into divulging his secrets by the means of copious amounts of wine and charm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I might ask for a dance, Your Highness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah stared at him for a moment, until she felt Bill softly push her elbow into her arm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course”, she sputtered, quickly emptying her drink before placing it onto the table behind her. As she turned back towards the Lord Master, she faintly registered that the world around her had decidedly softer edges now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She let the Lord Master guide her onto the dance floor, and became immediately aware of the effect their sudden joined appearance was having on the other nobles. Heads turned, then were stuck together as whispered conversations sprung up all across the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unperturbed, Lord Koschei turned to face her, his cloak of deep purple floating softly just over the floor. Traditionally, the Lord Master of Karn did not wear a crown, his station instead being denoted by the fact that he was the only person in his country allowed to wear purple. Underneath his cloak, a checkered vest was visible – a curious fashion statement, Juliannah noted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the music began to play, she inwardly cursed the musicians. A waltz, arguably the most intimate of court dances, was the last thing she wanted to dance with the Lord Master. A smile curled up one side of his mouth, and he stepped forward to wrap one arm around Juliannah’s waist, sneaking it underneath her cloak. She had to fight the urge to instinctively recoil from his touch, and instead placed her own hand on top of his shoulder. As they began to move around the dancefloor, he kept Juliannah’s gaze fixed on his. His dark eyes were flashing with unspoken danger, and his entire person seemed to be surrounded by invisible crackles running through the air. Something about this man felt decidedly </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Juliannah found herself simultaneously drawn to and repelled by him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you enjoying your evening, so far, Princess?”, he asked as they passed another dancing couple. Juliannah registered them briefly stopping to look at herself and the Lord Master, then continuing their dance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well, Lord Koschei. And how are you finding our capital?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, it is very special indeed. Your palace is… unique, in many ways.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was clearly not meant as a compliment, but Juliannah forced herself to return a polite smile. The place on her back on which his hand was resting felt hot, like it was trying to burn the skin of his palm. The thought of him pulling his hand away in shock made her smile inadvertently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something amusing you, Your Royal Highness?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am only enjoying the display of talent from our palace musicians, Lord Koschei.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that, his brow furrowed, and Juliannah saw anger flash through his eyes for just a second, immediately disappearing as it was replaced with a blank expression, then a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. It was that brief loss of composure that awakened a hunger in Juliannah to push the man further, to see how much he would be willing to take.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hear reports of Karn’s military exercises on the Terserian border. I assume I do not have to tell you our mutual Allies are not exactly happy about this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Must we talk politics, Princess? I would much rather we simply enjoy the night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will enjoy myself when I am sure the Alliance stands strong”, she said, smiling innocently at him before she added, “Lord Koschei.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All of a sudden, his grip on her right hand tightened, and his own pushed against her back, pulling her flush against him during their next turn. All feeling left her face as she found herself suddenly pressed against him, so close she could feel his beard against her cheek, and his breath on her ear as he hissed into it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Address me by my title, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Juliannah</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She reacted out of reflex, without giving herself a second to properly think. The moment she realised he was not about to let her go, her left hand, resting on his shoulder, moved towards his neck. Using the nails on her index and thumb, she gave his skin a hard pinch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hissed, and his grip on her weakened just as the music faded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her pulse beating in her ears, Juliannah immediately extricated herself from his arms and took a step back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Koschei</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, she pressed out between clenched teeth, and gave him a curt nod, then turned on her heels and headed off the dance floor. She passed Bill, silencing her with a lifted hand, and picked another glass of mead off the table on her way to the balcony doors. Throwing her head back, she drained its contents in one long gulp, handing it to a waitron stationed in a corner. She threw the doors to the balcony open with both hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as the cool night air hit her skin, she drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her grandfather would be furious, both at Lord Koschei’s impertinence and at Juliannah’s deliberate provocations. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laughter drifted out from the ballroom and onto the balcony, and Juliannah’s stomach clenched. She couldn’t go back in there. The mere thought felt suffocating, like every dance was stealing a little bit more of the very air she needed to breathe. She looked out into the distance, where the faint lights of the capital were barely visible. Her thoughts wandered to the night she had spent sneaking through the streets with Yaz at her side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment later, her gaze shifted and she looked down upon the smaller western balcony, to the right of the one she was currently standing on, and one storey underneath. She frowned. Her grandfather would be furious regardless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning around, she looked straight at the Guard standing with her on the balcony, keeping watch next to the door. She was a Princess Guard, and had moved outside with Juliannah, having previously been stationed inside the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dame Amelia”, Juliannah said softly. “If I were to ask you to close your eyes for a moment, and pretend that I was never out here if anyone came to inquire after me, what would you say to that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She got the distinct impression that the woman was trying very hard to suppress a grin at the unusual request. “I would not say anything, Your Royal Highness, given that you were never here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah smiled. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dame Amelia nodded, then proceeded to ostensibly screw her eyes shut. Placing her hands on the cold stone of the balustrade, Juliannah swung her legs over it in one fluid motion. For a brief moment, she was soaring through the air, exhilarated at the feeling, and then her boots touched on hard ground, causing her knees to buckle. Apparently, she had underestimated the mead’s effect on her balance, and she swayed for a moment before straightening herself again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She walked towards the door, then stopped, her hand resting on its handle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If she walked through the study on the other side, and then turned right, she could get back to her room without anyone but tonight’s Final Shield noticing. She could lock the door, and lose herself in a book or another experiment until her thoughts had calmed down enough to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she exited the study, she stood still for a moment, then turned left.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Part 2 coming soon 👀👀</p>
<p>If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving a comment  - they always make my day :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Part 2, here we go :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yaz’s skin was tingling with impatience and anxiety. Never in her career as a guard, be it in the city or in the palace, had she had this much trouble standing still and staying concentrated. She tried keeping her usual composure, even though she knew that she would probably not get into any trouble for moving about a little bit – her role tonight was more a formality than an actual asset to palace security. All she had to do was wait for the Princess to retire for the night, and walk her back to her room, putting her into the care of tonight’s Final Shield. The Princess, who was inside the ballroom right now, laughing and dancing, her hand in that of some nobleman’s who she barely knew. The Princess, who had stumbled into Yaz’s room only a few hours earlier. Her ears burned at the memory of the blonde’s eyes roaming over her torso. There was an urge inside of Yaz, loud and insistent, telling her to turn around, rip open the doors, find her way across the dancefloor and simply gather the future Queen into her arms and run.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz screwed her eyes shut, but it only made the image in her head stronger: Juliannah, in her arms like she had been the first night they had met, but this time, instead of a cloak that obscured her features, she was wearing shining white garments and her eyes were wide open, looking up at Yaz.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bell chimed in the distance – Yaz counted eleven strokes, meaning it had been three hours since she had let the Princess into the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Three hours since she had spoken her name.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The music behind Yaz started up once again, this time in the unmistakable rhythm of a waltz. Her stomach turned, and she tried to push away the new scene that appeared in her mind, of Juliannah pressed tightly against some Duke or such, whirling around the room. Instead, she focused on trying to recount the ingredients to her father’s pakora from memory. She had gotten halfway through the powdered spices when the music came to a soaring halt, and Yaz let out a long breath. The strings picked up again shortly after, but this time not in the form of dance music. It was a pleasurable, soft tune meant to grant the guests a moment to take a breath, grab refreshments and engage in conversation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wondered if Juliannah would tell her what had transpired inside the ballroom, and if Yaz should ask Amy or Ryan about it if she didn’t. She was both desperate to know the details of the night, and sick at the thought of actually having to hear them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, Yaz’s ears perked up and she tightened the grip on her shield. She was sure that she had heard a faint noise at the back of the corridor, where it led off into the King’s study. The room had a balcony – not an unlikely route for an intruder to take. As soft footsteps started to come her way, Yaz quietly drew her sword and etched closer towards the door, ready to raise the alarm if need be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She let out a long breath of relief as Juliannah rounded the corner a moment later. The feeling, however, was immediately followed by confusion, and she sheathed her sword, a frown creasing her brow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“West balcony. I jumped.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz’s mouth fell open. The Princess was doing her very best to make an innocent face as she slowly moved her weight from one foot to the other, hands behind her back. Her cheeks, however, were stained by the softest shade of pink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”, Yaz finally gasped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah scrunched up her face. “It was awful. You’d understand if you’d been in there. I –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stopped herself as soon as she noticed the look on Yaz’s face. “I’m sorry”, Juliannah said softly, and Yaz averted her gaze. She still didn’t understand why the Princess had had her posted here, of all places, far away from her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me make it up to you”, Juliannah said. “I’ll show you something.” Without missing another beat, the blonde reached out, and took Yaz’s free hand in hers. With a smile, she turned on her heels and began to pull Yaz down the corridor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As they began to walk away from the door, Yaz was acutely aware of at least five ways she was breaking protocol right now, the worst one arguably being the fact that she was in the process of abandoning her post. But she found that all she could focus on was the fact that the Princess was currently holding her hand. She was transfixed by their hands, one gloved, one free, hovering in the air between them, to the point where she almost stumbled more than once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a couple of turns, Yaz realised where they were going. Confusion rose in her – she knew the inner palace garden well by now. Was there a secret corner the Princess had kept from her until now?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Princess”, she said, careful not to use the woman’s first name in case they might be overheard on their way, “what are you trying to –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a brazenness about the woman that Yaz had never observed before. They dipped into the small staircase that led to the servants’ entrance, and Juliannah briefly turned towards Yaz, a smile on her face as she pushed the door open with her back, still not letting go of Yaz’s hand. The blonde led her down one of their usual side paths, towards the centre of the garden.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they turned onto the main path, Yaz gasped, and her eyes went wide.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The trees leading up to the gazebo were in full bloom. Their branches were hung with thousands of petals in soft shades of pink, illuminated from above by the light that shone from the palace windows. The petals moved ever so softly in the evening breeze, straining as if trying to escape their bounds and lift up into the air instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stood in silence, Yaz taking in the beauty in front of them, conscious of the Princess’s eyes on her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are they?” she finally asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah smiled. “Cherry trees. They only bloom once a year, for a week. It would have been too late if we’d have waited for you to be back on Final Shield duty. I didn’t want you to miss it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s gorgeous”, Yaz breathed, and her heart fluttered at the confirmation that Juliannah would request her as Final Shield again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As mesmerized as she was by the beauty in front of her, questions about the ball were still burning on the tip of Yaz’s tongue. It had been clear, even through Juliannah’s light-hearted behavior as she had told Yaz about her escape, that the woman was utterly miserable. If Yaz had learned one thing about Juliannah during her time in the palace, it was that the Princess had a great sense of duty. She would not have lightheartedly cast it aside simply because she was bored with a ball.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did anything happen?”, she finally asked. “At the ball, I mean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde instantly tensed up, and Yaz regretted bringing it up after all. “I’m sorry”, she mumbled, cheeks growing hot as she focused on the blossoms over her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be”, Juliannah said. “I just… It’s all the people in there, Yaz. It’s bad enough having to make small talk with them at official occasions, listening to them go on and on about their achievements and knowing that they have absolutely no idea about the lives of their people, or interest in them even. But having to dance with them, let them lead me across the dancefloor like some kind of prize… without me having a proper say in any of it? I hate it. I hate all of it. I would have much rather danced with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess's eyes widened as soon as the words had left her mouth, and Yaz felt like someone had momentarily robbed her of the ability to breathe. Suddenly, all sound around them had disappeared, leaving them in a vacuum of sorts, in which the only audible thing was Yaz’s blood rushing in her ears and her heart thumping in her chest as if it was trying to break her ribs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I –” Juliannah began, but before she could finish, Yaz had stepped up to her, one hand outstretched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Juliannah”, she said, a slight quiver in her voice. The name still felt so new on her lips. “Would you like to dance?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz was breaking every promise that she had made to herself. Every single time she had told herself that she had no right to hope for the Princess’s affection, every moment she had spent trying to chase the thoughts of her away, they were gone the moment those words had left Juliannah’s lips. And so she stood, hand hovering in the air between them, her heart beating in her fingertips and the truth dancing around her lips, so eager to break free.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, slowly, Juliannah lifted her hands, enveloping Yaz’s in them. But instead of stepping up for the beginning of a dance, she reached towards Yaz’s wrist, and gently opened the clasp of her gauntlet, pulling it off Yaz’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz realised with a jolt that she had never touched the Princess’s skin, and her throat went dry. Even as she had carried her through the city, the woman had been wrapped up in her cloak, and Yaz had been careful to hold her in a way that would not have made her uncomfortable, had she been conscious. She watched as the blonde pulled her other gauntlet off as well, before placing both of them on a bench to their right, where Yaz’s shield already lay, forgotten. When had she even put it there?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Juliannah laid her hand in Yaz’s for the first time, and the air around them stood still. It took a heartbeat, and then another, and like a match being struck, warmth exploded from the tip of Yaz’s fingertips all the way up to her arm and her chest, her heart aching as it strained against her ribs.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>From the windows of the palace, the faintest hint of music floated into the garden, just audible enough to make out its rhythm. Yaz recognised it as a dance her father had taught her when she was still a child.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope I remember the steps to this”, she mumbled sheepishly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They waited for a moment, counting the beats, and then they began to move. Slowly, at first, Yaz feeling overly conscious of her movements  – her constrictive amour wasn’t exactly helpful in her endeavor to appear graceful. Juliannah, on the other hand, was moving with the elegance of a gentle river, every move fluid yet precise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a formation dance, meant to be performed with multiple partners, yet Yaz did not mind not having to share Juliannah. They moved towards each other, their hands lifted high between them, then moved back again. Letting go of each other, they each stepped to their respective left, briefly standing back to back, before another step brought them face to face again. The distant sound of violins hung in the air around them as once again, they moved towards each other. This time, they stopped shoulder to shoulder, their eyes meeting as they lifted their hands to join them once again, high above their heads. Their free hands snuck around each other’s waists, and they began to turn, never breaking eye contact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the music picked up its pace, their moves became quicker, too. A harpsichord began playing a rapid series of ornamentations that sounded like ribbons slung between the melodies of the strings. Again and again, Yaz and Juliannah met shoulder to shoulder, spinning each other around and moving down the path. A soft breeze had begun to wave through the garden, and out of the corner of her eye, Yaz saw blossoms floating in the air. She lifted her head as they spun, and all of a sudden the petals were everywhere, enveloping them like rain, dancing around them, with them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then Juliannah was laughing, and Yaz’s heart bloomed in her chest like a delicate flower, as if Juliannah’s laugh was the sun and the rain and everything Yaz had ever needed to live. When their eyes met again, Juliannah’s were shining.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I love you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Yaz thought, and for the first time, she made no attempt to push the truth away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you, Juliannah</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They continued dancing under the cherry trees, Juliannah’s laugh ringing through the air like its own kind of music. Every time their arms slung around each other’s waists, they pulled just a little bit closer. Breathless, they took their final turn, the music coming to its conclusion in a grand crescendo. Having returned to their initial positions opposite each other, they bowed. Juliannah’s cheeks were red, her hair slightly dishevelled from the rapid movements and the wind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you”, was all Juliannah said, and Yaz was about to ask for another dance, when a drop of rain landed right in front of her foot. Frowning, she looked up at the sky and suddenly realised how the air around them had changed. In a matter of seconds, more drops began to fall, and Yaz realised that she was about to find herself in the middle of a downpour.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without missing a beat, Yaz turned and hurried towards the bench. She grabbed her gauntlets, fixing them to her belt, then picked up her shield. Running back to the Princess, she lifted the shield over the blonde’s head. “Let’s get you inside”, she said, and as she turned to make her way out of the garden, Juliannah snuck an arm around her waist, pulling herself closer so that the shield could cover them both. Yaz’s breath hitched in her throat, but there was no time to dwell, as the rain around them turned heavy. They ran down the path, back towards the staff entry. Juliannah was laughing once again as they pulled each other forward, and Yaz couldn’t help but join in. She felt like a child again, running to seek cover from the weather after staying outside for too long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stumbled through the door, Juliannah first, having let go of Yaz. Just as Yaz stepped over the threshold, she watched as the blonde’s right foot slipped and she began to fall forward. Instinctively, Yaz reached out for her again, wrapping her arm around her midriff from behind, and spinning the blonde towards herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had underestimated the impact. As Juliannah crashed into her, Yaz stumbled sideways, first her shoulder, then her back hitting the wall. The air was knocked out of her lungs at the same moment that a loud clang announced that her shield had landed on the floor somewhere next to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took Yaz a moment to regain control over her breathing, and she blinked hard a couple of times, until the black dots disappeared from her vision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next thing she took notice of was the position she had inadvertently flung herself into: Juliannah’s hands were pressed against Yaz’s chestplate, and the knight herself was still holding on tightly to the blonde, one arm slung around her midriff, one arm pressing against her upper back. Juliannah’s head was buried into the crook of Yaz’s neck, and she could smell a faint hint of orange on the blonde hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz found that she was completely unable to move, and at the same time, every single nerve in her body seemed to be tingling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yaz”, Juliannah whispered, her breath tickling the skin of Yaz’s neck. Before Yaz could reply, the blonde shifted her head just slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment Juliannah’s lips touched Yaz’s neck, fires exploded throughout her body. A sound tumbled over her lips, one that she had never heard from herself in her entire life, and then her body started moving out of its own accord. Her grip on the blonde tightened as she pulled her closer, pressing her flush against her own body. Juliannah’s lips kept hovering against Yaz’s neck, occasionally grazing the skin and causing Yaz to shudder. It took all of Yaz’s leftover self-restraint to not spin them around and press the blonde against the wall herself. Then, Juliannah began to slowly move her head, her cheek brushing against Yaz’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When their gazes locked, Yaz thought her knees would give out underneath her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah’s eyes were gleaming, her cheeks were red and tousled hair framed her face. They were so close that Yaz could count the specks of gold that danced across the blonde’s irises. Desire was burning through every fibre of Yaz’s body now, muffling any leftover thoughts of reason. Juliannah’s gaze shifted onto Yaz’s lips, causing the knight’s ungloved hands to fist a handful of the material on the back of the blonde’s jacket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, Juliannah angled her head, stopping when her lips were only a fraction away from Yaz's anymore. Yaz’s eyelids fluttered closed, and then Juliannah’s breath ghosted over Yaz’s lips, and she noticed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was alcohol on the Princess’s breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her entire body went cold, and she let go of Juliannah as if she had been burned, her eyes going wide. Dread burned through her at the sudden realisation that she had been about to take advantage of the woman in front of her. Before anything more could happen, she angled her head away from Juliannah, and as gently as she could, she took a hold of the blonde’s upper arms and shifted her away, just enough for Yaz to step out between her and the wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She felt like a fool. It had all been there – the redness of her cheeks, the gleam in her eyes, the sudden lack of inhibition. Yet Yaz had not seen any of it – or had she chosen not to? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I -”, she mumbled, as she moved away with quick steps, her back now turned to Juliannah, “I’m sorry, I –”. Her voice trailed off, and for lack of knowing what else to do, Yaz pulled the gauntlets off her belt. She quickly slipped them over her hands, reinstating an unspoken barrier between them. All the while, she averted Juliannah's gaze, picking up the shield that she had dropped when she had reached out for the falling Princess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How could she explain? That she wanted this more than anything else, but not like this. That her worst fear in the world was to hold the woman in her arms for a single moment, only to have her ripped away the next by the realisation that Juliannah had not wanted this at all? The only thought worse than the blonde not returning her affection was Yaz taking advantage of a moment when that affection could not be fully given.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, she managed to make herself turn towards the Princess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should bring you –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Dame Yasmin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words sliced like a knife through Yaz’s chest, but before she could say anything, Juliannah was walking away. The blonde rushed up the stairs, her cloak flapping behind her as she took two steps at a time. Yaz hurried over to the base of the staircase, but Juliannah was too quick for Yaz to catch up with her. Instead, she was left on her own in the small space, a myriad of emotions racing through her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the door fell shut above her, she stood in silence. Slowly, she raised one hand against her neck, where Juliannah’s lips had been only a moment ago. Her skin was still tingling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry”, she whispered as she closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>😇😇😇</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>First of all, thank you everyone for your comments on the last chapter! Your various levels of outrage 100% made my day 😂 In all seriousness though, this is the kind of stuff that keeps me going, so really, thank you :)</p>
<p>Now, I promise we are very close to a moment you've all been waiting for (I swear on Captain Albrek's left buttcheek), BUT FIRST:</p>
<p>All aboard the Angst Train 😇</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yaz’s dreams were filled with pink blossoms and soft music, and Juliannah’s laughter ringing through the air. Turning over, Yaz pressed her face into her pillow, smiling against it as she tried to keep the images present just a little longer. Strings in the distance played a familiar tune, and then Juliannah was somehow in her arms, and she was kissing her neck, and their lips were only –</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a jolt, Yaz sat upright in her bed, her eyes wide open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pleasant feelings from just a moment ago were immediately replaced by shame. Yaz dropped her face into her hands, biting her bottom lip at the same time. She had messed up in a phenomenal way. Apparently, her feelings for the Princess had grown so much that she had assumed them returned at the first sign, completely disregarding the situation. There was no way that a sober Juliannah would have acted the way she did last night. Yaz was nothing more than a soldier who happened to know the future Queen’s secret, and that was all that bound them together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m going to get fired</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought, and a shiver ran down her spine. In her mind, the Lord Protector was already bursting through the door, accusing her of indecent behaviour towards the Crown Princess. She saw the disappointed faces of her colleagues as they watched her getting dragged out of the Palace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She forced herself to take a deep breath. No matter what had happened between them last night, Yaz could not bring herself to believe that Juliannah would report her and have her expelled from the Guard. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> been the one to initiate the –</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She was drunk</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Yaz told herself, putting a firm stop to her own thought before she could finish it. She threw away her covers, and opened the window, fresh air filling her room. It carried the scent of spring.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sudden resolution took root in Yaz’s heart. With a new sense of purpose she began to put on her armour, piece by piece. She would wait until she had a moment alone with Juliannah, and then she would explain. If the Princess would hear her out, Yaz would lay the choice in her hands: she would either stay on as her Guard, or leave the palace at once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wondered, for a moment, how she would explain it all to her parents, but pushed the thought aside quickly. It was no use pondering a potential outcome when nothing had been decided yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A toll of the bell told her that she was too late for breakfast, and would have to make her way straight to the Princess’s chambers. The heir had a meeting with the King and their advisors scheduled for this morning, no doubt to discuss the ball and the prospects that had resulted from it. Yaz’s jaw clenched. It was the last thing she wanted to hear about this morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She met with Ryan in the hallway, and they made their way towards the main part of the palace. With every step, Yaz’s heartbeat grew more irregular, and she kept having to force herself to take deep breaths.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They greeted the Final Shield, who seemed excited at the prospect of a soft mattress soon to be under his back, and then they waited. When the door to the Princess’s room opened, Yaz’s back stiffened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Royal Highness”, she and Ryan spoke in unison, bowing deeply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“False alarm”, a voice said. When Yaz looked up, she came face to face with the lady-in-waiting. The woman wore a tired smile on her face. “Your ladyship”, Yaz quickly corrected herself, giving a brief bow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid her Royal Highness is not feeling too well this morning”, the Countess spoke. “Sir Ryan, would you be so kind as to fetch a servant and ask for the Princess’s breakfast to be brought to her room.” Just as the knight had already begun to walk away, she added: “Oh, and Ryan. Please make sure it is the kind of breakfast you would need after a night of too much... partaking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan nodded, the corners of his mouth just barely lifting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is she alright, your ladyship?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Countess turned towards Yaz, a quizzical expression on her face. Yaz could have kicked herself – she was well aware of the fact that she wasn’t allowed to simply address the Countess without permission. “The Princess is fine”, the redhead said, her eyes piercing as she held Yaz’s gaze. “She just needs to gather her strength.” The woman’s voice softened a moment later, and she laid a hand on Yaz’s arm as she added: “I’m sure she appreciates your concern for her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Countess disappeared back into the Princess’s room, and Yaz was left on her own. Apparently, she had forgotten every single detail about Royal Protocol that Ryan had spent nights hammering into her brain. It was almost with relief that she finally heard the other knight walking back towards her, a servant with a platter full of food in tow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knocked, and the Countess appeared once more, taking the food from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think she’s alright?”, Ryan mumbled as soon as it was just the two of them again. “She disappeared in the middle of her own ball last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz swallowed. “She’s fine. The Countess says she just needs to eat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan raised an eyebrow. “She told you that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I asked.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz groaned. “I know, I know. Lapse of judgement.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took a full twenty minutes until the doors opened again, and this time it was the Princess herself who stepped outside. Yaz bowed, staying that way until the blonde had passed her. She couldn’t bring herself to look Juliannah in the eye. It was only when she held open the door to the sitting room, where Juliannah was to meet with her advisors, that Yaz dared take a look at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What she saw shook her. The Princess looked like she had not slept at all. Her hair was held back by a messy ponytail, some strands falling loose past her cheeks. She wore a simple white shirt and a vest over it, and there were dark lines under her eyes. Yaz realised that the Princess must have had much more to drink than she had thought. There was a second option, of course – that Juliannah had been unable to sleep after what had transpired between them – but Yaz did not want to dwell on that possibility.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sitting room was filled with five older nobles that Yaz would not have been able to tell apart if her life depended on it. She counted two Dukes, one Marquess and two Earls, only discernible by the various symbols of rank on their clothing. The only truly familiar face next to Juliannah and the King was the Duchess of Olew. They all found their places in cushioned chairs around a small table, and waited.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was an awkward silence that lasted for almost a full minute, until the King spoke. “I am afraid your absence last night did not go unnoticed, Juliannah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Princess pulled a face, letting herself fall back into the cushions of her chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Several potential suitors felt snuffed, Your Royal Highness”, one of the Earls spoke. “Others are spreading rumours –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bill shot him a look that instantly silenced him, but it was too late. “What rumours?”, the King asked. Everyone in the room suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable. The King sat up straighter in his chair. “What rumours?”, he asked again, a slight edge to his tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Duchess leaned forward, looking into Juliannah’s eyes across the room. “Rumours that the Princess is already… involved.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A cacophony of protests erupted around the room. “Nonsense”, the Marquess sputtered. “Who dares say such things? The reputation of our future Queen –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will find the culprits at once, your Majesty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rest assured that –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All eyes in the room turned towards the Princess, who had finally spoken. Her eyes were closed, and her right hand pinched the bridge of her nose. “People are going to say”, she began, dropping her hand, “whatever they want to say. We can’t make them stop. Rest assured that I am indeed </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> involved with anyone. As for my early departure”, she continued, her gaze flickering towards her grandfather, “I was not feeling well last night.” She turned towards her advisors. “I am still not, in fact, but I am here. So let us not dawdle. Your Grace?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One of the advisors nodded eagerly, and produced a rolled-up sheet of paper. “Very well, Your Royal Highness.” He carefully unrolled the parchment, and placed it onto the table in the centre. “We have compiled some information on yesterday’s dance partners for you. First off, the Duke of Ethram –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The older man frowned. “Your Highness, the Duke has excellent political connections. Including important family ties to Karn, through his brother’s marriage with Lord –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A bead of sweat formed at the man’s temple. “Very well, Your Highness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz stood quietly as they went through a couple of names one by one, the advisors listing off different attributes for each candidate. She noticed that they never included notes on their character, only political advantages. Throughout it all, Juliannah stayed relatively quiet, occasionally interjecting a comment or two. It was decided that three of the suitors she had danced with would be invited to a private audience. In the end, Juliannah reluctantly agreed to let some of those who had missed their chance to dance with her come to the palace as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If that is all”, Juliannah said, her hands already on the arms of her chair, “I will be going back to my chambers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually”, the Marquess piped up, “there is one more possibility we haven’t considered.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah frowned, and sunk back into her chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It did not go unnoticed”, the Marquess began, fiddling with his lavish robes, “that you granted the Lord Master of Karn a dance last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz felt like somebody had punched her in the gut. The Lord Master, the potential mage, hostile to the Alliance and out for war, had danced with Juliannah. Did he know, she wondered? If so, he was a threat of unspeakable proportions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Almost everyone in the room suddenly seemed extremely eager. “The Lord Master?”, one of the Earls piped up. “Such an alliance would be invaluable. Your Highness, if you were to be bound to him in companionship, Terserus would no longer have to fear a war!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once again, everyone in the room began talking over each other, but Yaz only had eyes for Juliannah. The Princess’s face had drained of all colour, and she was staring blankly ahead. “I –” she began, but nobody listened. Yaz felt anger well up inside her chest. They were bargaining Juliannah’s life away as if she were nothing more but a chip in a game of cards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Majesty”, the Marquess spoke, his eyes shining as he turned towards the King. “Would you accept such a union? The Alliance would –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliannah seemed to become smaller with every passing second, practically disappearing into her chair. Yaz wanted to scream, to tell them all to shut up and actually look at Juliannah, so they would see what the mere thought of this was doing to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why won't anybody </span>
  <em>
    <span>listen </span>
  </em>
  <span>to her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room grew deadly quiet as every single pair of eyes landed on Yaz. Her skin turned cold as she realised that she had spoken out loud.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Marquess, who sat nearest to Yaz, did not waste a moment and jumped out of his chair. He was in front of her a second later, his head red. “You will not speak without permission in the presence of your King!”, he shouted, and before Yaz could say or do anything, the back of his hand hit her across the cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz gasped, her hand instinctively reaching up for her cheek. It was burning, and she could feel blood underneath her fingers. One of the Marquess’s rings must have caught on her skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Multiple things happened at once. Everyone jumped out of their chairs, including the King. A cup of tea fell and broke on the floor, and the Duchess called out “Your lordship!”, her voice laced with barely repressed anger. Before anyone could say or do anything more, however, Juliannah had flung herself past Yaz, and grabbed a fistful of the Marquess’s robes. She was bristling, her eyes ablaze, her jaw clenched. “How </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> you”, she growled. “How dare you lay a hand on </span>
  <em>
    <span>my guard</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Marquess’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull. “Your Majesty”, he whimpered, trying to catch a glance of the King.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let him go, Juliannah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reluctantly, the blonde released her grip on the man, who immediately tried to straighten out the wrinkles in his robe. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I have to say that I am –”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He coughed, his face turning a deeper shade of red. “Your Majesty?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Juliannah moved aside, the King stood behind her in all his glory, his eyes shining.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You heard me, Cathal. You are to return to your estate at once, and stay there while I revise your position as an advisor to the Crown." The King paused for a moment, fixing the Marquess with an ice-cold stare. "You heard the Princess. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nobody</span>
  </em>
  <span> lays a hand on our people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Marquess stood stock still, blinking in disbelief. Finally, he gave a brief bow. “As you wish.” With that, he rushed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz stood still next to the door, too shocked to move. When the King turned towards her, she tensed up. But the man reached into his pocket, and produced a white handkerchief, embroidered with his initials and the crown. “Here”, he said, his voice soft. “For your cheek, Dame…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz swallowed. “Yasmin”, she said, her voice shaking. She took the handkerchief from his hand, and bowed. “Thank you, your Majesty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned towards the room. “I think we will leave it at this for today. Duchess, can I trust you to organise the private audiences for her Royal Highness?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bill nodded. “Of course, your Majesty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He left, his King’s Guard in tow, through the doors on the opposite side of the room. The remaining nobles filed out past Yaz, who felt their eyes on her like burning coals. Bill was the last of them to leave, and she stopped in the doorway. She looked at Yaz, then turned towards Juliannah, frowning. Juliannah, however, was staring into the corner, her fists clenched and her chest still heaving in an effort to calm herself down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, it was only Yaz, Ryan and Juliannah left. The air was heavy with tension and unspoken questions. Yaz was sure that she was about to get an earful from Ryan at the very first opportunity that presented itself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dame Yasmin", Juliannah said, not looking at Yaz. "Go to Doctor Jones, so she can have a look at that cut. Sir Ryan, I will retire for the rest of the morning." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the blonde passed Yaz a moment later, her hand twitched, as if she wanted to touch Yaz but just stopped herself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alone in the room, Yaz held on to the King's handkerchief as a single drop of blood rolled down her cheek and off her chin. It fell on the carpet, leaving a small red stain behind.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading :) I promise things will get better soon for our brave knight and her princess :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After Doctor Jones had cleaned her wound, Yaz made her way straight to the dining hall, and picked up a bowl of stew from Graham before any of the other knights could make their way downstairs. Graham shot her a quizzical glance, but she simply shook her head. She was not in the mood for talking about what had happened at the meeting, and she wanted to make her way back to her room as quickly as possible. If there was one thing she wanted to avoid, it was having to watch her colleagues all around her sticking their heads together, whispering as the events of the morning spread throughout the castle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>During afternoon training, Yaz felt all eyes on herself, but nobody dared ask her about anything while she had a sword – albeit a blunt one – in her hands. They all knew that a duel with her meant at least a few bruises, and they didn’t want to risk that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She skipped dinner all together, heading for her room as soon as she had picked up her own sword from the armoury. Even when she heard Ryan calling out her name, she chose to ignore it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz didn’t sleep at all that night. Her thoughts were a tangled mess, running in circles around the same few events: the night in the city, the first walk with the Princess, their dance, their almost kiss, and finally Juliannah’s outburst.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wanted so desperately to believe that Juliannah felt the same way she did, but she could not let herself. It would be foolish. Her heart was already aching enough, without even having had to experience a proper rejection yet. Yaz knew it was coming her way – the moment she would tell Juliannah about her feelings, it would be as inevitable as the moon rising every night. Best getting her hopes in check before, to at least dampen the blow a little bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time the first ray of sunlight began streaming through her window, Yaz felt like somebody had spent the entire night beating her up. Every muscle was tense, her eyes hurt and her head felt heavy. She washed her face with cold water from the basin in the corner, and dared take a look at herself in the mirror above it. One look at the dark rings under her eyes was enough, however, and she quickly turned away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as she was about to pull on her gauntlets, there was a knock on her door. Fighting down the panic that had immediately begun clawing at her throat, she called out “Come in”, her voice just a little bit shaky. But then the door opened and she saw four familiar faces.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The broad grin on Amy’s face immediately melted away as she laid eyes on Yaz. “Stars, Yaz”, she breathed. “You look like shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A dry laugh escaped Yaz’s lips, and Clara elbowed the redhead. “Amy!”, she hissed. Amy had the decency to look embarrassed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not that I don’t appreciate the visit”, Yaz said as they all filed into her small room, closing the door behind them. “But what are you guys doing here? Shouldn’t you be at breakfast?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were”, Rory said, holding out a platter with bread and fruit. “We thought you’d probably want to skip it again, so we brought you some stuff.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz stared at the plate for a moment, before she took it with both hands. “Guys”, she mumbled. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the mental stress of the past few days, but suddenly, Yaz had to fight down tears in her eyes. “Thank you”, she said, then quickly turned around to place it on her desk, giving herself a moment to wipe the back of her hands over her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“On the less pleasant side of things”, Clara began, and Yaz swallowed hard. “You have been banished to polishing shields and weapons until the end of the week. No other duties.” The brunette made an apologetic face before she went on. “No training, either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz sighed. She had expected some form of punishment, and this one was not nearly as bad as the ones her sleepless mind had conjured up for her. In fact, if she was being perfectly honest with herself, she also didn’t mind the fact that she wouldn’t have to face Juliannah for a couple more days. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Having noticed Yaz’s thoughts drifting off, Ryan piped up. “We’ll help, so don’t worry. We’ll come join you on off-duty hours.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz immediately shook her head. “No. You guys get to enjoy your free time. I’m the one who messed up. None of you should have to deal with the consequences.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy let out an exasperated sigh. “By all the stars, Yaz, will you just let us help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surprised, Yaz shifted her gaze towards the redhead. “Listen, Yaz”, Amy said. “We all know something has been going on with you, and we're all worried. We get that you apparently don't want to talk about it, but at least let us be there for you this way. You're family now. We’ll help, no discussion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz found that she was too exhausted to object. “I’m sorry”, she mumbled. “I’ve just had a harder time adjusting than I thought.” She forced her lips into a weak smile. “Thank you for helping me out, I really appreciate it. I don’t know what I would do without you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that, Clara let out a soft laugh. “Polish shields on your own, for one”, she replied, grinning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They left Yaz to eat her breakfast then. Over the next four days, she didn’t see anything but her room, the kitchens, and the armoury. Sleep still eluded her most nights, but she managed to catch at least an hour during lunch if she skipped the food. She wasn’t really all that hungry anyway as what usually ate away most of her energy – her training – was no longer happening. She kept thinking about paying Doctor Jones another visit, and asking for something to help her sleep, but something inside of her was still determined to punish herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her friends made sure to drop into the armoury whenever they could, and they would entertain her with stories about what was going on in the rest of the palace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Apparently the Countess Noble </span>
  <em>
    <span>arm wrestled</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Lord Master’s secretary into telling her about military movements”, Amy said as the two of them sat side by side on the fourth day, whetting blades. “She got him drunk enough to think she would never stand a chance. The Countess managed to stay perfectly sober somehow, even though she bested the Lord Master’s Cup-Bearer </span>
  <em>
    <span>of all people</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a drinking contest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz shook her head, grinning. “Honestly she seemed so proper when I met her, I would never have guessed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh the Countess Noble is many things, but not </span>
  <em>
    <span>proper</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She’s quite fierce, if even half of the stories that are told about her are true. If I had any inclinations that way, I would throw myself at her feet in a heartbeat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz raised her eyebrow. “Aren’t you forgetting about someone there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy kept her eyes fixed on the blade in her hands, but the slight hint of pink on her cheeks betrayed her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about”, she mumbled, and laid the finished sword aside, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Sitting back down, she threw Yaz a meaningful glance. “Talking about ‘someone’” – she put air quotes around the word – “How’s your city lady? Writing you letters, I hope?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A bead of sweat rolled down Yaz’s neck as she kept her eyes fixed on her work. She felt conflicted – on the one hand, it would be better if Amy believed Yaz’s heart lay firmly behind the city gates; on the other, she hated lying to her friend. It felt wrong, especially given that the other knight had been giving up her free time in order to help Yaz out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh dear”, Amy said, drawing her own conclusions from Yaz’s silence. “Trouble in paradise?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Yaz didn’t reply, the redhead went for a lighthearted joke, patting Yaz on the back as she chuckled. “I hope she didn’t get all jealous over the Princess herself knocking around a Marquess for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a moment, mere seconds, during which Yaz lost control of her facial expression. And suddenly, the room around her went ice cold, as both she and Amy stopped moving. Nobody said a word, and Yaz could practically feel the realisation slowly making its way into Amy’s thoughts. In that instant, all Yaz wanted was for the floor underneath her to open up, to swallow her, and if not that, then for somebody, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anybody</span>
  </em>
  <span>, to enter the room and save her from the conversation that was about to follow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yaz”, Amy said slowly. “Please tell me I’m getting the wrong idea here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz screwed her eyes shut, her grip tightening around the blade in her hands. She let out a long breath. It was no use lying to Amy. The only thing she could do now was attempt some form of damage control.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry”, she began. “I can’t.” She looked over at Amy, whose mouth fell open in a silent ‘oh’. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yaz”, her fellow knight finally said. “Are you insane?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz felt a dry laugh escape her mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not joking, Yaz”, Amy hissed, and she grabbed both of Yaz’s arms, forcing her to face her. “Chasing the –” She stopped herself, glancing towards the door. When she continued, her voice was barely a whisper. “Chasing the skirt of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Crown Princess</span>
  </em>
  <span>? They’d have your cloak for this, Yaz. Hell, some might even want your </span>
  <em>
    <span>head</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz swallowed. “Don’t worry”, she mumbled. “I’m not going to do anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a whisper at the back of her mind added, and Yaz clenched her jaw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something about Yaz’s expression must have softened Amy’s outburst, and she let go of Yaz’s arms. “I’m sorry”, she mumbled. “I’m just worried about you, Yaz. I don’t know if she has done anything to… lead you on in any way?” The knight stopped, her eyes widening slightly. “Hang on”, she said. “Is this the reason she threw herself at that guy for hitting you?” A moment later, Amy’s face softened as she put two and two together. “It’s why you spoke up”, she stated quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz bit her bottom lip. “Yeah, and I could hit myself because of it. I don’t know what got to me. As for her going off on the Marquess like that… I don’t know. I don’t really know anything anymore, to be honest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, Yaz. She seems like a genuinely decent person, compared to most nobles, anyway. But she’s still the heir to the throne. If anything happens and you get found out, it will be on you. It will be on </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> head, not hers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know”, Yaz replied, setting the sword aside. “I know, Amy. And I promise you nothing is happening. She hasn’t done anything improper.” Her neck began to tingle where Juliannah's lips had been, but she tried to ignore the feeling. “It’s all me”, she continued, trying to convince herself just as much as she was trying to convince Amy. She grabbed the next sword from the table, and placed it across the whetstone. “It’s just a stupid crush”, she said, trying to make it all sound final. “The problem will solve itself with time, I’m sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amy looked entirely unconvinced, but to Yaz’s relief, she let it go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, as they found their way back to their rooms, the knight swore she would not tell anybody else about Yaz’s feelings. Still, Yaz’s fitful sleep was filled with nightmares as soon as she closed her eyes that night. When she woke, it was with the lingering image of Juliannah dancing with a handsome stranger. They were both wearing wedding garments.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The image stuck around in the back of her mind for the rest of the day. Rory joined her in the armoury this time, and he chatted away happily. Yaz occasionally interjected a word here or there, but for the most, she was happy to just listen. Anything to keep her thoughts away from both her nightmare and tonight’s announcement of next week’s shifts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Yaz entered the dining hall that night, people didn’t pay much attention to her. It was a relief after almost an entire week spent avoiding the whispers of her colleagues by stealing her meals from the kitchen. It seemed that they had finally moved on to other topics – from the bits of conversation she could pick up, most were discussing what next week’s assignments would be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She has emerged!” Ryan said, clapping his hands together as she approached their usual table. Yaz let herself fall onto the bench with a wry smile. “So it seems”, she said. She looked around the table, briefly pausing when her eyes locked with Amy’s. The redhead simply nodded, a silent confirmation of her promise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I really hope they won’t put me on the wall this week”, Clara said, grabbing some bread from the middle of the table. “It’s getting warmer and warmer up there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz sighed, remembering how she had boiled in her armour, and it hadn’t even been spring yet. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed”, she said, and accepted a plate of sliced meat with gravy from a kitchen boy. “This looks amazing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Graham has outdone himself”, Amy sighed, a blissful expression on her face as she bit into a slice of bread that she had soaked in gravy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz enjoyed the meal as best as she could, trying to keep her nerves at bay. Until now, she had managed to avoid letting one particular fear get to her: that Juliannah would request Yaz not to be put on Final Shield duty, effectively cutting off their line of communication. Yaz hoped with all her heart that the Princess would at least grant her an opportunity to explain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time the Dame Commander entered the dining hall, Yaz had barely managed to eat half of what was on her plate. Her mouth felt dry, and she took a quick gulp of water before standing up and saluting with the others. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She waited as name after name was called. When Grace called a knight up for the second shift on Final Shield, Yaz’s stomach tightened. If anybody else was called upon as Final Shield before Grace got to her, her worst fears had come true. When the Dame Commander called the last name before Yaz’s, she held her breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Afternoon shift.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz let out a long, slow breath as Grace turned to her. “Dame Yasmin. Final Shield, first shift.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some soldiers turned to look at her, frowns on their faces. Yaz’s fist clenched instinctively at her side, but she forced her mouth into a smile. Having picked up on the moment, Rory leaned over to her as they sat back down. “They’re just jealous, you know. Everybody knows you’re one of the best duelists here. It would have been foolish not to put you back on Final Shield duty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Rory.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz was mostly silent for the rest of the meal. She tried to concentrate on the conversation that was going on, but kept returning to an entirely different one in her head – one that had not yet happened. As soon as Grace had confirmed that she would be Final Shield, Yaz’s mind had begun to form sentences, ways to explain what had happened. Her thoughts always circled back to the crux of the matter: offering to give up her cloak if that was what the Crown Princess needed to feel safe and comfortable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they retired for the night, Yaz did her darndest to ignore Amy’s pointed stares.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next day, Yaz completed every step – putting on her armour in the morning, joining the others for meals, polishing her shield a final time, duelling Clara and Ryan during training – with the care of someone who knew they might be doing all of it for the last time. She relished the feel of her armour, her cloak, the sun on her face on the training grounds, the laughter of her friends when they sat down to eat. When the time came to leave the dinner table and get ready for her shift, she reached over and gave Ryan a hug. The knight looked at her, surprised, then laughed as he hugged her back. “What was that for?”, he asked, and Yaz simply shrugged. “Just like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once she had picked up her shield from the armoury, Yaz began the long ascent to the Princess’s chambers. She still wasn’t entirely sure what she would say to her, but she hoped the words would come to her when she needed them. Her heart beating fast, she finally walked into the corridor, and spoke the ceremonial words with reverence, relieving the two other Princess’s Guards of their duty for the day. By the time they had disappeared around the corner, Yaz could feel her pulse in her fingertips, in her ears, in her belly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, she waited.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She waited as the last of the day’s sunlight painted the wooden floors golden. She waited as the candles’ flames drew flickering shadows across the walls. She waited as the bells chimed midnight, and waited still as the stars shone bright and silence stretched itself over the entire palace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Throughout it all, the door behind her remained firmly shut.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So close... 👀</p>
<p>Thank you for reading :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>